


The Winds of Time

by Dusktrail



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Adventure, Drama, Eevee - Freeform, Eventual Romance, Gardevoir - Freeform, Gen, Gritty, Legendary Pokemon - Freeform, OC, Original Region, Work In Progress, blaziken - Freeform, gallade - Freeform, luxray - Freeform, non-canon, porygon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-04 15:03:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 53,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6663475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusktrail/pseuds/Dusktrail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan is a guy who doesn't have much use for pokemon, but soon finds himself partnered with one. With one of the Guardians of Creation having abandoned its duties, Ryan finds himself caught up in events that quickly spiral out of control. Can an unlikely hero rise to the challenge, or will mysterious forces plunge the world into a dark future?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Discarded

 The ancient creature stood upon the mountain's peak, its large, white body a stark contrast to the slate-grey rock around it. A gust of wind washed over its body, curling turbulently through the golden protrusions that ringed the midsection of its quadrupedal form. It closed its eyes in contemplation, letting its senses take in the essence of the world around it. It felt the currents of life flowing across the landscape in myriad threads of color and light. It felt the air rushing through the vault of the sky, stretching up until it faded into the empty blackness beyond. It felt the heart of the earth spinning deep below, churning in its fiery cocoon. And it felt all of these carried inexorably forward by...

 It opened its eyes with a shudder.

 The Winds of Time.

 Cold enough they had become to drive a chill through even it, the one who had come before all others. Cold, like the heart of the one who stood as time's guardian.

 It stepped to the edge of the mountain peak and gazed out upon the world below, wondering what this would portend.

 * * *

 Ryan watched from behind the cover of a clump of bushes as two men opened the back of the plain white van they had parked in the forest clearing and began unloading its contents. The bang and clatter of the small metal cages the men pulled from the van was swallowed up by the surrounding trees, their previously chirping and chittering inhabitants now suddenly silent. One by one, the men dumped the occupants of the cages onto the ground. Most were tiny orange birdlike creatures or blue and white rodents - torchic and cyndaquil like the ones Dr. Lynd was treating.

 Once they had finished dumping their cargo, the men loaded the empty cages back into the van and drove away. Ryan stepped out from behind the bushes and made his way toward the pokemon the men had left behind. Many of them had already scurried away into the forest. The ones that remained looked sluggish and listless. Even still, Ryan approached with caution as these fire types could be very dangerous, even in the weakened state that they appeared to be in.

 Several torchic who were missing small patches of feathers stirred only as he drew near, hopping feebly away. Ryan approached two cyndaquil, one of which lay on its side, its breathing labored, issuing only small puffs of smoke from its back where flames should be. The other, its own flame a pitiful flicker, stood over its companion, gently prodding it with its nose. It quickly turned when Ryan's shadow fell across it. He stepped back slowly, fearful of provoking it. Instead, the cyndaquil only looked up at him and squeaked plaintively then returned to nosing his companion.

 Ryan took out his cell phone and dialed.

 "Arborea Hills pokemon clinic," came the female voice from the other end, "how can I help you?"

 "Doctor Lynd, it's Ryan. I found out where all the injured pokemon are coming from. A couple guys just dumped a vanload of them in the forest off route 217. We're looking at a couple dozen here. I'm sending you my GPS position so you can make a pickup."

 "A couple dozen? This is bigger than I thought."

 "Yeah. I don't know who these guys are, but I'm going to try to follow them and find out." Ryan paused for a moment then held out his phone and snapped a photo of the cyndaquil. "By the way, you might want to tell whoever you're sending out here to step on it. Some of these critters are in pretty bad shape. I'm shooting you a pic."

 There was a pause on the other end, noticeably longer than would be necessary to check the photo. "They'll be there right away," Doctor Lynd said, her tone soft but serious.

 Ryan stepped out from the stand of trees and watched the white van making its way slowly down the switchback dirt road that led back toward town. "Okay, doc. I better get moving before these guys get too far."

 "Ryan, be careful. I don't want you to do anything that'll get you..."

 He hung up before she could finish and slipped the phone back into a pocket in his cargo pants, hurrying back toward his previous hiding spot. As he neared the offloaded pokemon, the cyndaquil squeaked at him again. He glanced only briefly in its direction as he passed.

 He jumped onto his motorcycle that he'd parked a short distance away - a dual-sport model, equally at home off the road as well as on. He thumbed the starter and smiled as the motor instantly thrummed to life. Its quick response was testament to the pride he took in its care since he bought it two years ago with money he'd saved from after-school jobs. It was a sixteenth birthday present to himself - the only one he'd received that year.

 He sped off in pursuit, cutting across the switchbacks and quickly making up the distance between him and the white van.

 * * *

 Ryan stopped short of the driveway that the van turned in to. There was no need to get closer to know what this place was - a large sign that read "NuGen" in a large, futuristic-looking font sat prominently in front of the sprawling, multistory building that dominated the landscape. After watching the van drive around to the back of the building, he backtracked a short distance and pulled off the road.

The area had just enough tree cover to allow him to circle around and approach the building from the rear. He parked his motorcycle among a nearby stand of trees and crept closer on foot. A roughly ten foot high cinder block wall stood between him and the building - a lucky break, since it provided cover for him as he approached.

 He hopped up and grabbed the top of the wall, hoisting himself up and over it and landing lightly on the other side among a row of parked cars. He hunkered down behind them, quickly scanning the area for anyone who might have seen him come over the wall, finding himself alone for the moment. A quick visual search revealed the white van parked near a loading dock a short distance away.

 Ryan speculated that they might have come back for another load of pokemon to dump. If so, he could catch them in the act. Since no one had apparently seen him sneak into the parking lot, he decided the best way to avoid suspicion was to not look suspicious and simply stood up and strode openly toward the loading dock as if he belonged there. His ploy seemed to work, as he passed a smartly dressed woman exiting the building who didn't so much as glance at him as well as a man pulling into a parking spot who actually waved at him.

 Ryan came to the loading dock, finding its metal roll-up door still open. Inside, he saw a large staging area, its interior currently lit only by the fading, late-afternoon daylight shining in from the outside. Built large enough to accommodate the back end of a semi-trailer, Ryan noted that it could easily accommodate a smaller vehicle - such as a van - inside it, shielding the vehicle and whatever someone might load into it from view.

 A few stacks of rather unremarkable-looking cardboard boxes were visible just inside, but Ryan suspected that the shadowed recesses farther in might conceal something a bit more incriminating. After a quick check of his surroundings, he hurried inside and began searching the interior.

 Unfortunately, the boxes contained only office supplies and the far corners contained nothing more interesting than a case of rubbing alcohol. _So much for the smoking gun_ , he thought. Still, he at least knew where the injured pokemon were coming from, if not the "why" behind it. It looked like that would have to be enough, for now. He turned and headed back the way he came.

 "Hey, you! What are you doing over there?" came a harsh voice behind him.

 Ryan turned toward the voice to see a large man wearing black pants and a white shirt walking toward him from the direction of the double doors on the back wall leading into the building. Ryan's stomach sank as he spied the baton hanging from the man's wide belt and the badge on his shirt. He glanced toward the outer doorway, then back toward the security guard approaching him.

 The guard was closer.

 "I don't think I've seen you here before. Are you an employee?" the guard asked, looking down at him. Broad-shouldered and muscular, he towered over Ryan by a head.

 "Yes, actually. New hire," he quickly lied. "Just cleaning up before the next shipment gets in."

 The guard eyed him up and down. "Where's your ID badge?"

 "Oh, I must've left it in my car. Hold on and I'll get it."

 "It's okay," the guard said, pulling out his radio. "Just tell me your name and I'll have Rachel verify you."

 "Actually, you've got a point. I really shouldn't be running around without my ID." Ryan said, backing toward the dock exit. "I'll go grab it so we can both get back to work."

 "Hold on a second," the guard said, moving to follow.

 Ryan broke and ran, hoping that the small head start he had would be enough. He dashed out of the dock, the guard's footsteps close behind. He weaved between some of the cars, hoping to widen his lead, then made a running jump for the cinder block wall. His adrenaline-fueled leap carried him high, allowing him to scramble up and halfway over in one quick motion.

 A hand closed around his trailing leg, ripping him off of the wall and sending him sprawling to the ground. The guard hoisted him up with a vice-like grip then threw him across the hood of a nearby car, easily pinning his arms behind him. Ryan struggled desperately but the guard held him fast, until finally he felt a thick plastic zip tie cinch closed around his wrists.

 * * *

 The security guard shoved Ryan roughly into a small, plain room furnished only with a small table and a few chairs. The guard pointed at one. "Sit," he barked.

 After being so easily manhandled, Ryan decided it was best to comply.

 A short time later, another man walked in. He was short and balding, dressed in brown khakis and a salmon-colored button-down shirt with a dark green tie. At his side was a bipedal pokemon that, at a little over five feet tall, stood only slightly shorter than him. Its lean upper body was mostly green, including its arms which looked oddly flattened, while its lower body was white. It regarded Ryan intently with large, alert eyes.

 "What's going on here?" the man asked the security guard.

 The guard nodded toward Ryan. "I caught him sneaking around in the loading dock."

 "Just him?"

 "Yes, sir," the guard replied.

 "Well, check the building and make sure. I'll take care of things here."

 With a nod, the guard turned and left the room.

 The balding man sighed then turned to Ryan. "This gallade," he said, pointing to the pokemon next to him, "is psychic. It'll know if you're lying to me so don't bother trying. Now, why did you break into our facility? What were you trying to steal?"

 "First off, I didn't break in," Ryan said. "And I wasn't trying to steal anything."

 The man turned to the gallade who silently nodded.

 "So what were you doing in the loading dock, then?"

 Ryan considered his situation. He certainly couldn't tell them the real reason he was there. Telling the world's largest pokemon pharmaceutical company that you're going to blow the whistle on them while you're trussed up in one of their research facilities couldn't possibly end well. He figured, at best, they'd quietly dispose of any incriminating evidence while he sat in a jail cell. At worst? Ryan's eyes drifted toward the gallade. He suspected its mental powers had more dangerous uses than just reading minds. But if it actually could tell if he was lying, he wouldn't be able to explain his presence any other way.

 Instead, he decided the only thing he could say was nothing.

 After asking a few more questions and receiving no answers to any of them, the balding man's patience quickly ran out. "If that's the way you want it, fine," he said. "You can explain yourself to the police." He turned to the pokemon beside him. "Gallade, I want you to keep an eye on our guest until the police arrive. Do you understand?"

 The gallade nodded.

 The man glanced back at Ryan, shook his head, then left the room.

 Ryan hung his head. He wondered how he would explain this to Doctor Lynd. Would she even accept a call from him in jail? Doubtful. A simple trespassing charge probably wouldn't carry too stiff of a penalty, but after this shook out, there was no way she'd let him keep working for her. A shame, that. He'd hoped to stick around at least a little while longer.

_Why are you really here?_

 Ryan looked up in surprise as he realized that he'd heard the words spoken directly into his mind. He saw the gallade regarding him deliberately. "Did- you just talk to me?"

 The gallade gave him a bland look. _You don't see anyone else here, do you?_

 "No, I guess I don't. It's just that I've never had an actual conversation with a pokemon before."

  _Your emotions intrigue me. I felt a great deal of fear from you while you were being questioned, which is understandable._

 So it truly was psychic. The thought of it being able to rummage around so easily in his mind made Ryan's insides twist.

  _What is less understandable is that I detected no feelings of guilt about your actions. The part that I find truly baffling, however, is that you actually became less afraid when he said he was calling the police. Whatever your purpose was in coming here, you feared it being revealed more than any consequence that should follow. So, I ask you again,_ the gallade said, locking its large amber eyes on his, _why are you really here?_

 Ryan quickly considered the situation. Perhaps this gallade didn't actually know what these people were up to. Given the circumstances, it seemed unlikely. It also seemed unlikely that it would be pleased with its masters if it did know. He decided to take a chance. "They're hurting pokemon."

 The gallade's large eyes narrowed. _Is that so?_ it said into Ryan's mind.

 "Yeah. They're dumping pokemon in the forest. I don't know what's being done to them before that, but some of them were on death's door when these guys were through with them. I have proof of it if you don't believe me."

 The gallade said nothing, just staring at him for long moments. If it could read minds as well as it seemed, it would know he was telling the truth. Or perhaps, Ryan thought, with a knot growing in the pit of his stomach, it knew exactly what was going on. Maybe the balding man was just the set-up and the real interrogator was standing in front of him.

 With sudden swiftness, the gallade strode toward him, its right forearm flattening into a dull green blade. Before Ryan could react, it clamped a hand on his shoulder and raised its arm blade high, then brought it slashing down in a savage, green blur.

 He heard the sound of plastic clattering on the floor behind him as his wrists came unbound.

  _Show me this proof you spoke of. Now_.

 Ryan slowly took his cell phone out of his pocket and brought up the image of the two cyndaquil. "This was taken less than an hour ago," he said, holding the phone out for the gallade to see. "I followed the people who did this back here."

 It leaned in close, studying the image intently. Ryan watched its brow furrow then darken into a scowl as it examined the image on the screen. Finally, it straightened, taking a deep breath and immediately letting it out in a rush. _Stay here_ , it said telepathically. _I will return shortly_.

 Without another word, it turned and left the room.

 Ryan stood, rubbing his wrists where the ties had bitten into them. Now free, he quickly weighed the situation. The gallade certainly seemed to be swayed by what he told - and showed - it. But what was it doing now? Was it going to help him escape? Perhaps it went to confront its masters about what it had just learned. If so, that could be disastrous for both of them. He could take his chances and make a break for it now, but he knew he probably wouldn't get far. Not without help, anyway.

 But as minute by minute ticked slowly by, he felt his faith in his would-be ally waning and his chances for escape slipping away. Whatever the gallade had in mind was taking too long. Finally, he could wait no longer. He went for the door.

 As Ryan's hand touched the doorknob, electronic alarm bells rang out through the hallway outside. Startled, Ryan snatched his hand back. A moment later the door crashed open and the gallade rushed through, breathing hard.

 "What's happening?" Ryan asked.

 A computerized voice echoed through the hallways, "Fire alert, floor 1, section A. Fire suppression system has been activated."

 "You started a fire?!"

  _No_ , the gallade said, _the twenty charmander I let out of their cages in the holding area started a fire. They seemed unusually agitated for some reason. Perhaps they, too, had been ill-used. Now quickly, follow me_. The gallade turned and headed out the door.

 Ryan hurried after him as the alarm bells and computerized PA announcements continued. The few people they encountered ran past them without a second glance.

 After winding their way through the hallways, the gallade finally led them to a staircase. It started heading upstairs.

 "Where are you taking us?" he called after him.

  _There's a lab on the third floor I've never been allowed in or even near. I think we should both like to have a look at it._

 "Do you think we'll have enough time?"

  _This is why you came here in the first place, isn't it?_

 "Fire alarm, Floor 2, section A" the automated voice blared.

  _And yes, I think we should have enough time if we hurry._

 "So, what should I call you, anyway?" Ryan asked as they ran up the stairs. "That guy you walked in with called you 'gallade' but I thought most pokemon that hung around humans had names."

  _A few of the people I work with call me Cutter_ , he replied. Ryan decided for himself that it was a he. Its mental voice sounded masculine, and Cutter seemed like a male name, anyway.

 "I guess I can see why," Ryan said as they topped the stairs and rushed down another hallway. "My name's Ryan, by the way. So, Cutter, how much farther is it?"

  _Here_ , Cutter said, stopping in front of a white, metal door with a placard that read, "Lab 3-C-11. Authorized Personnel Only."

 Ryan tried the door and found it locked. To his chagrin, he found the only visible means of unlocking the door to be a card reader on the wall next to it.

  _Allow me_ , Cutter said, producing a card. He slid it into the reader which beeped, followed by a loud click from the door.

 Ryan noticed, as Cutter withdrew the card, that it was imprinted with the photo of the salmon-shirted man that questioned him earlier. He quickly opened the door to the lab, deciding it was probably best not to inquire.

 Ryan flipped the switches just inside the door and the fluorescent ceiling lights flickered to life, illuminating the darkened room and revealing a panoply of scientific equipment inside. He pulled out his cell phone and starting recording video as he entered.

 Dominating the room were transparent cylindrical tanks which lined opposite walls of the large, rectangular room. Ryan approached the nearest one which was filled with a clear liquid and contained an irregularly-shaped lump of organic matter suspended within it.

 Cutter stood next to Ryan and peered into the tank. _What is that, Ryan? It looks - wrong._

 "Cloned tissue sample F22-3," Ryan said, reading a label on the side of the tank. He walked down the row of tanks, each also containing tissues of indeterminate origin with similarly cryptic labels.

 At the far end of the room, they found rows of glass-fronted enclosures of various sizes. Inside some of them were bowls of feed pellets and water. An acrid smell wafted from the enclosures - a pungent mix of urine, animal spoor and disinfectant. As he inspected the enclosures, Ryan noticed that Cutter hung well back, his arms clutched together. Ryan could understand why. Even to him, this corner stank of fear.

 He moved on to a nearby area enclosed by curtains hanging from tracks in the ceiling. Ryan pulled back one of the curtains, revealing a large stainless steel table. Leather straps dangled from slots in the table's edge and a swivel-mounted light fixture hung above it on a long armature. A small smear of blood marred the otherwise shiny surface.

 Ryan felt Cutter's hand on his arm.

  _I don't like this place,_ Cutter said, his mental voiced tinged with anxiety. _Can we go now?_

 "There's one last thing I want to look at," Ryan said, drawing the curtains closed once again. He went to one of the computers sitting on a table in the middle of the room. He wiggled the mouse and the screen turned on, showing a plain desktop littered with icons. Most had uninteresting labels and brought up charts full of incomprehensible data when opened. Nestled within one of the subfolders, however, was something that caught Ryan's eye.

 "Project Prometheus, huh? Let's have a look at you." Ryan clicked on the folder, but instead of opening, a prompt appeared on the screen. Ryan swore.

  _What's wrong?_

 "Password protected. Figures. And we're running out of time. Wait, I know one last place to look." He found the e-mail section and began scanning the recent messages. A few moments later he stopped and turned to his companion.

 "Hey, Cutter, can you read?"

  _Yes, why?_

 Ryan pointed to the e-mail displayed on the screen.

 To: Harold Trumbull, Engineering Dept.

 From: Dr. Gregory Talbot, Life Sciences Dept.

 Re: Your gallade

 At your earliest convenience, would you please send the gallade you have assisting your team to my lab? My project has reached a crucial point and I believe its presence would prove invaluable.

 Thank you in advance for your help.

  _They were going to..._ Cutter looked up at Ryan then stared at the lone empty tank in the room _...to me?_

 "I think we've seen everything we need to see here, don't you?"

  _Yes. I think we have_ , Cutter said, his mental voice low and somber. _We should leave before the diversion I set runs its..._

 The lab door opened and a tall, bearded man appeared in the doorway, his otherwise clean lab coat marred with dark, sooty scorches. His eyes scanned the room and quickly fell upon Ryan and Cutter. "Who are you? What are you doing in my lab?" he demanded.

 "Getting your dumb ass on camera," Ryan shot back, holding up his cell phone. He turned to Cutter. "Time to bail." The two of them raced through the door on the opposite side of the room and into the adjoining hallway. "Is there another way down other than the stairs we came up?" he asked.

  _Yes. This way._

 Ryan followed Cutter through the halls, looking back every so often to check for signs of pursuit. Thankfully, he saw none. When they arrived, panting, at where Cutter had led them, Ryan stared in disbelief. "Tell me that's not what I think it is," he said, pointing to the pair of small, metal, swing-up doors set into the wall. Above them hung a large placard emblazoned with the triangular recycling symbol.

 Cutter regarded him for a moment. _It's exactly what you think it is._

 "Am I even going to..." Ryan trailed off as he heard the sound of rapid footsteps approaching. Moments later, a dark shape rounded the nearby corner - a large, black-furred canine pokemon with backward curving horns on its head. Its eyes glowed with a hellish red light which flared brighter when it saw them.

 A houndoom.

 He'd never seen one in person before but the stories he'd heard of those who'd been attacked by them - those who'd survived - had given him nightmares when he first heard them.

 It bared its teeth with a growl and charged, wisps of flame and smoke leaking from the corners of its mouth. By the time Ryan could react, the houndoom's leap was already carrying it through the air, jaws gaping, toward him.

 Just before the houndoom struck, Cutter jumped in front of him, arms raised and extended into blades. It crashed into Cutter, the impact sending all of them tumbling to the floor.

 Ryan quickly scrambled to his feet but Cutter was pinned to the floor by the houndoom who had its jaws locked on Cutter's right arm. Cutter slashed at the houndoom with his other arm but his position prevented him from getting enough leverage to make an effective strike. Without releasing its hold, the houndoom responded by exhaling a gout of flame. Cutter's arm took the brunt of the blast, but at such short range, the flame still had enough power to sear Cutter's chest.

 The houndoom was making short work of Cutter, but Ryan knew that if he attacked it barehanded, it was likely to make even shorter work of him. He needed a weapon. Perhaps one of the nearby rooms held something he could use - a broom or some chemicals or even a pair of scissors. He dashed to the nearest door and tried it.

 Locked.

 He was about to try another door when his eyes fell upon a red canister hanging near the door. He smiled grimly and snatched it off of the wall.

 Ryan ran back to the melee, aimed the fire extinguisher at the houndoom and squeezed the lever, blasting it in the face. The houndoom yelped in pain, letting go of Cutter's arm and staggered back several steps. Ryan pressed the attack, shifting his grip to hold the fire extinguisher's head with both hands, then hauled back and aimed a low golf swing at the houndoom's head, connecting with a hollow metallic clang that sent it tumbling to the floor. It came to rest, unmoving, on its side, its black fur now dusted powder-white from the extinguisher's blast.

 Ryan knelt next to Cutter who was holding his right arm, bloodied and scorched from the houndoom's attack. "Are you okay?"

  _It stings, but it's not bad._

 "I wasn't sure that would work, but I figured it was a good bet that a fire pokemon might be susceptible to a fire extinguisher." Ryan helped Cutter up then opened one of the garbage chute doors.

  _Not that one._

 "What difference does it make?"

  _Trust me._

 Ryan let the door flap drop and opened the other one. "I can't believe I'm about to do this," he muttered.

 Ryan landed roughly in the dumpster at the end of the garbage chute, his fall broken by bags full of empty plastic pokemon healing spray bottles. A few moments later, Cutter landed in a similar fashion, his fall broken mostly by Ryan. After climbing out, Ryan looked into the adjacent dumpster that the other chute emptied into and found that it was filled with empty metal aerosol cans of healing spray. "Good call," he said to Cutter who simply smiled in response. "Now, let's get the hell out of here."

 * * *

 Ryan stopped his motorcycle in front of a lone two-story house. The high-roofed building sat amid an expansive grass yard perched atop a broad hill. "This is it - the Arborea Hills Veterinary Clinic," Ryan said, dismounting.

 Cutter hopped lightly to the ground. _It looks like a house._

 "That's because it is a house," Ryan said as he led Cutter to the front door, past the small wooden sign which was the only outward indication that this edifice was anything other than the cozy dwelling it appeared to be. "Or at least it was. Doctor Lynd's husband owns a small construction company. He bought the place as a fixer-upper and converted it for her."

 A bell suspended above the front door tinkled as they entered. Inside, the wainscoted walls and simulated wood grain linoleum tile further added to the homey feel of the place.

  _It still doesn't look like a clinic._

 "That's the way Doctor Lynd wanted it. She told me she hated the typical sterile white-and-metal look. She said it put people on edge. Pokemon, too."

 "Ryan, thank goodness you're back," said the woman hobbling into the waiting room from the hallway. Long, wavy brown hair framed her face, upon which sat oval-framed glasses. She stopped, resting a hand on her visibly swollen belly. "I was starting to worry. And who is your friend?"

 "Hm? Oh, right. This is Cutter. Cutter, this is Doctor Lynd. She's a pokemon veterinarian."

  _It's nice to meet you, Doctor Lynd_.

 She smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Cutter." Her eyes fell upon Cutter's wounded arm and her smile vanished. "What happened here?"

 "A houndoom got him," Ryan said.

 "Let me see," she said, gently holding up Cutter's arm to examine the bite marks. "This is definitely going to need attention. Come to the back and I'll take care of it." She turned to Ryan, frowning. "How did all of this happen? And where have you been?" She leaned in and sniffed. "And why do you smell like smoke?"

 "Long story. The short version is that NuGen is the one dumping the pokemon."

 "NuGen? They're behind this?"

 Ryan sighed. "Yep. They were doing some pretty twisted stuff in their labs. Or at least some of them were, anyway. By the looks of it, they were going to put Cutter on the chopping block, too."

 "I see. Well, I'm glad both of you are okay." They came to the treatment area in the back, which, unlike the waiting area, looked much more like a typical clinical setting with exam tables on a clean tile floor and medical supplies stacked neatly on white shelves and counters. She pointed to a small enclosure containing a pair of cyndaquil. The flames on their backs burned low but steady. "I'm happy to say that we picked up the pokemon at the location you sent us and it looks like all of them should make a full recovery."

 "Oh, right. That's- great." Ryan said, fishing around around in his pants pockets. He pulled out his cell phone and started backing toward the hallway. "I think I'd better go get these pictures and videos posted. I bet a lot of people would be interested to see them. Don't worry," Ryan added, noting the hesitant expression on Cutter's face, "you're in good hands."

 * * *

 Cutter stretched out on the exam table and watched Doctor Lynd as she began passing a glowing wand-like device over his arm. _That looks like a model MDP-12 tissue modulator_ , he observed.

 "Indeed it is," she smiled. "You certainly know your medical devices, Cutter."

  _I worked with the people who make this stuff, you know. They mainly use the HMAP-5 Bio-Reactor now. You can treat six pokemon at a time in one of them. Pokemon centers bought a lot of them when they rolled out._

 "Unfortunately, being a small clinic, we don't have the resources that the big pokemon centers have. Besides, I like the hands-on approach better," she said, giving the crest on his head a scratch.

 Cutter watched her work, her gentle touch and warm smile putting him at ease. Moreover, he could feel the genuine warmth she held for her charge - a sincere love not only for what she did but for the ones she did it for.

  _I noticed that your abdominal area seems unusually distended. Is this normal?_

 "It is," she said, "considering the fact that I'm pregnant."

  _Really?_ Cutter's eyes brightened. _I've never seen a human egg before. Will you be laying it soon?_

 "Humans don't lay eggs, Cutter," Doctor Lynd said, smiling. "We give birth to live offspring. And I expect that my baby will arrive within the month."

  _The extra mass seems to impede your movement,_ Cutter said, noting how she had to shift her body to lean over the table. _Does it interfere with your work?_

 "At first, not so much. Now..." she rubbed her swollen belly and sighed, "...a little. It’s a good thing I have Ryan to help out."

  _He does seem resourceful. Have you known him long?_

 "No. He came in a couple months ago looking for a job. Since he didn't have a place to stay, I offered him one of the rooms that hadn't been converted in return for keeping an eye on things at night."

  _I'm surprised he would want to work here. He doesn't seem very comfortable around pokemon._

 "He does give that impression, doesn't he? But he's always taken good care of our patients and they respond well to him. And believe me, most pokemon can tell when someone doesn't like them."

  _So why does he act as he does?_

 "I don't know. He's a bit of a mystery. He doesn't talk about himself much, even when I ask, and he never talks about his family. All I know is that he left home as soon as he graduated from high school and after travelling a while, wound up here." Doctor Lynd turned off the medical device and set it on a tray next to the table. "All done. How does it feel?"

 Cutter sat up and flexed his fingers, then extended his forearm into a blade. _Good as new. Thank you._

"You're very welcome."

_Before you go, there was something else I wanted to ask you._

 * * *

 Cutter walked out to the grassy yard behind the clinic and found Ryan leaning back against a large rock, looking out toward the town.

 Ryan glanced up as Cutter approached. "How's the arm?"

 Cutter held up the appendage in question. _Fully healed. Doctor Lynd is an excellent veterinarian._

 "I wonder if NuGen really was ignorant of what that Gregory Talbot guy was doing. Maybe. I hope so." Ryan began idly flicking at a weed between his feet. "Could you imagine that, though? The world's biggest manufacturer of pokemon medicine doing sick experiments on pokemon?"

  _It would be frightening._

 "You know, you really saved my bacon back there. Breaking me out. The houndoom. Nasty business with that."

  _In a way, you saved me as well. Had you not come, I would have no knowledge of what they were planning to do with me._

 Ryan waved a dismissive hand. "All I did was snoop around a bit and get caught."

  _But you found the answers you were looking for and exposed the people responsible. You risked much for that. I think that says something about you._

 "Doctor Lynd wanted to know where all the injured pokemon were coming from, so I went looking."

  _It's interesting that you bring that up. You see, while she was treating me, I mentioned to her that it seemed an exceptionally dangerous thing that she asked of you. I was surprised when she told me that she never asked you to investigate the matter at all. In fact, the only thing she remembers saying to you about it was a passing comment expressing frustration at not knowing the source of the injured pokemon._

 "Doctor Lynd helped me when I needed it. I was just returning the favor. So now that everything's done, what are you going to do? You're not going back there, are you?"

  _There are some nice people there, but after what I saw, I don't think I'd ever feel safe there again. A home you can't trust isn't a home anymore._

 "Yeah. I know."

 Cutter looked at Ryan, startled by the burst of emotion that accompanied his words - a sudden slash with a keen, bitter edge that passed as quickly as it came, leaving not the slightest trace on his expression.

  _I think I know where I'd like to go._

 "Yeah? Where's that?"

_I'd like to stay with you._

 Ryan blinked. "With me? I, um... I'm not sure that would be a good idea."

  _Oh. I suppose it was a bit forward of me to ask such a thing, considering we just met._

 "It's not that, it’s just... Don't you think you'd be happier with someone else?"

  _What do you mean?_

 "Well, there are a lot of people out there who spend their lives studying pokemon and learning how to take care of them. I'm just... I don't exactly know a lot about that sort of thing."

  _I know._

 "So why would you want to stay with me?"

  _Because I like you._

 Ryan stared at Cutter, saw big amber eyes full of sincerity looking hopefully back at him. He quickly looked away. "I... I don't..." he started, swallowing hard through his suddenly dry throat. He stared down at the grass between his feet. "...I don't have any poke balls for you to sleep in so you'll have to share the sofa bed with me. It's not much, but it's what I've got." He kept his eyes fixed downward as Cutter sat next to him, leaning into his side.

  _I'm okay with that._

 The last light of the setting sun faded into dusk while they sat together, no other words passing between them. In the stillness of their long silence, Ryan felt an ineffable warmth from the pokemon nestled at his side - a spark of light illuminating a place within him long left cold and empty. Whether it was some psychic emanation or simply a product of his own mind, he didn't know. Whichever it was, though, it felt real.

 And that was enough.


	2. Metal on Metal

The ancient pokemon felt a shift in the fabric of reality behind it - a bending of space that formed a connection between this realm and another, distant one. A moment later, it was not alone.

 "You summoned me?" came a voice from the newcomer. "Father," it added, as if reluctantly.

 The ancient one turned slowly to face the one who spoke. The newcomer shared a strong physical resemblance to it in its quadrupedal form but differed in its coloration, having a blue body lined with luminescent stripes. Metallic crests adorned its head, back and chest. A single, blue-white jewel set into its chest pulsed slowly with an inner light. It glared down at its sire with burning, red eyes, dwarfing the ancient pokemon with its own towering form. "Indeed. Too long has it been since we have spoken, Dialga."

 "Ironic that you say so, considering you had little to say before, _Arceus_ ," Dialga said, the last word spoken with obvious contempt.

 "I had much to say, but little that you cared to hear."

 Dialga idly pawed at a rock, then crushed it under a metallic foot. "Was there any particular reason you called me here, or did you simply wish to remind me of your preeminence?"

 "Long has been your absence, Dialga. The Winds of Time have grown cold without your guardianship."

 "Time needs no guardian," Dialga spat. "It has looked after itself these many years and I see no reason why it cannot continue to do so."

 "You are mistaken. This world suffers and I fear that it will suffer more in the coming days without your presence."

 "As if you care!" Dialga said, rounding on his father. "Tell me, if you are so concerned for this world, what you have done to guide it along? How have you shepherded the masses spread out upon the land before you? You stand here upon your lofty perch, meditating on your own greatness and making grand pronouncements against those you deign to cast your gaze down upon. But will you so much as lift a finger for anyone in this world? Of course not! After all, why should you when everyone is beneath you."

 "I cannot bear the weight of this world alone. That is why I invested much of my former power into my children - and especially into you, Dialga."

 "So you say, but I think, perhaps, something less noble stays you. Perhaps it is fear? Fear of failure? Oh, yes, such reluctance would be wise on your part." Dialga leaned in close, his eyes smoldering into a deeper shade of red. "For the taste of failure is bitter indeed and lingers long after you weary of it."

 "I know that the past has brought you pain, but you are needed here in the present by pokemon and humans alike."

 Dialga made a derisive snort. "Humans. I think this world would have been better without them."

 Arceus looked up into Dialga's eyes. "We both know you don't mean that," he said softly.

 Dialga glared wordlessly down at his father, then turned and began walking away. "If you love this world so much," he said over his shoulder, "you can look after it yourself." The jewel set into Dialga's chest flared and the air in front of him rippled into a shimmering portal.

 A moment later, Arceus was alone once more.

 * * *

 Ryan sat at the small, round table in the kitchen eating a slice of microwave pizza - a late-night snack before his evening rounds at the Arborea Hills Pokemon Veterinary Clinic. The sound of the evening news playing on a small television sitting on the counter broke the quiet of the evening. He watched the program absently between bites of pizza until one story in particular caught his attention.

  _NuGen, the world's largest supplier of pokemon medical supplies and training aids continues to face a firestorm of public criticism over allegations of pokemon abuse and bizarre experiments being conducted at one of their facilities. The story broke as a result of a video recently posted on the Internet depicting the alleged abuses. The video went viral within hours of its posting and now has pokemon advocacy groups demanding a full investigation. Inside sources report that Doctor Gregory Talbot, a senior researcher in NuGen's life sciences division has reportedly been terminated from NuGen as a result of the scandal. NuGen has since released an official statement: "We are deeply shocked and saddened by these recent revelations. As a result, we will be implementing more rigorous oversight of all research projects to ensure that they are conducted in a safe, humane and ethical manner consistent with our philosophy of providing quality care for our pokemon friends and their partners."_

Ryan sniffed at the bare crust in his hand then lobbed it into the garbage can across the room as he headed out of the kitchen to begin his nightly walkthrough. He checked the stocks of gauze and disinfectant, bringing in more from the storeroom where needed. He mopped the floor, wiped down the counters and emptied the garbage. Finally, he began his tour of the recovery room.

 He came first to a clear, open-topped enclosure that was empty except for a single brown-speckled egg sitting on a pile of fine wood shavings. He glanced at the card affixed to the side of pen which read, "Species: Eevee". The egg had been here for the past few days, but the card identifying it was new.

 Ryan pulled out his cell phone and opened his pokedex app. It had proven useful during his employment here at the clinic, though he found its contents to be dull reading and consulted it only when the need arose. Now, he scanned the entry pertaining to the occupant of the egg. It seemed to him to be a thoroughly unremarkable creature, aside from its unusual ability to develop into a wide variety of other forms by various means.

 He put his phone back into his pocket and began walking away when a soft rustling sound made him pause. He turned back toward the pen and saw that the egg was shifting on its nest of shavings. He stepped closer and watched as its movements became more pronounced. The egg fell over on its side and began to rock and shudder. After a short while, an appendage burst through the shell - a wet, furry paw - soon followed by another. Finally, the egg split in half, revealing a small, brown vaguely canine creature with long ears, a thick, bushy tail and a white ruff around its neck.

 It rolled about on its back, struggling to right itself. When it finally succeeding in getting its feet underneath it, it stood, wobbling, bits of wood shavings sticking to its still-damp fur, making a high-pitched yipping noise.

 "I bet Doctor Lynd will be glad to see you've finally popped out," Ryan said to the bedraggled pokemon. "Though I suppose she wouldn't be thrilled if I left you looking like you lost a fight with a dumpster." Ryan retrieved a towel from a nearby cabinet and proceeded to wipe it dry, then placed bowls with food and water in the enclosure with it.

 Ryan turned to continue his rounds but stopped when he heard the eevee begin yipping again. It stood with its front paws up on the glass, wagging its tail. "It's late. Eat your food and go to sleep," Ryan told it over his shoulder and continued on.

 As he moved out of its view, the eevee's cries became a shrill whine.

 Ryan stopped again, sighing heavily. He waited for the eevee's whining to stop, but when it didn't, he returned to its pen. The tiny creature looked up at him, squeaking plaintively. "All right, already," he said, exasperated. He reached down and picked up the eevee who practically leapt up into his hands. "You can come with me for the rest of my rounds, but just zip it, okay?"

 The eevee made a mewling sound then settled quietly into Ryan's arms.

 Without further disturbance, Ryan continued with his rounds, coming first to a fully enclosed glass-fronted pen containing a snakelike pokemon with a piece of gauze wrapped around it halfway down its body. "This is Mrs. Atwood's ekans," he told the eevee. "He tried to take a bite out of a raticate and wound up having a bite taken out of him, instead." The ekans raised its head and glared at Ryan. "Don't get mad at me for telling it like it is," he told it as he checked its bandage. "It’s your own fault for being a greedy guts."

 Ryan narrated the stories of the remaining patients to the eevee, including a purrloin that got stuck in a tree and decided to take a swan dive off the highest branch rather than allow itself to be rescued and a swalot that ate one of its owners' poke balls with a pokemon still inside it. The owner was understandably upset and the poke ball had to be surgically removed before it got digested. When he was finished, he found that the eevee had fallen asleep in his arms. He carefully returned it to its pen then headed upstairs to his room and slid into his bed where Cutter already lay sleeping.

 The next morning, Ryan crawled out from under the covers of the sofa bed, its springs softly twanging as he did. He stood and raked his fingers through his short, black hair. Cutter, nowhere to be seen, had apparently woke up before he did. Ryan rubbed his bleary eyes, yawning loudly, then proceeded to get dressed and went downstairs.

 He found Doctor Lynd seated at the kitchen table, sipping a mug of tea with Cutter sitting next to her with his eyes closed and a hand on her stomach.

  _Good morning, Ryan,_ Cutter said without opening his eyes.

 "Morning, Cutter, Doctor Lynd," he said, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. He sat down at the table across from Doctor Lynd who smiled at him over her mug. "I hope you're being careful, Cutter," he said between spoonfuls. "A baby's mind is probably pretty fragile."

  _Oh, yes, of course. I only just listen, though. I doubt that its mind is sufficiently developed to understand anything I'd try to say to it anyway._

 "And speaking of babies," he said to Doctor Lynd, "that eevee egg in the back hatched last night."

 "It has? Oh, that's wonderful! After you finish your breakfast, we should go have a look at it."

 Doctor Lynd finished her tea while Ryan dispatched his cereal, then the three of them went to the pen containing the newly hatched eevee where its occupant lay curled up inside. As they approached, it perked up and rushed to the edge of the pen, jumping and yipping.

 "Damn, that thing's hyper," Ryan said. "Are they all like that?"

 "Eevee are very energetic. It's part of the biological process that prepares them for transformation into other forms." She picked it up and attempted to examine it, but it immediately began squirming in her arms. "Ryan, could you hold it for me so I can check it over?"

 He took the wriggling pokemon from Doctor Lynd and as soon as he did, it began eagerly licking his face.

 "It seems to like you, Ryan," the Doctor said with a grin.

 "I wish it would like me less. After it hatched, it wouldn't shut up until I carried it around for a while." Ryan looked down at the eevee who was now sniffing at his neck. "You can stop that, now," he said. The eevee, however, showed no signs of complying.

 "I think you should keep him," Doctor Lynd said.

 "I'm sure you'd find that adorable, but it already belongs to someone."

 "Actually, it doesn't. I got the egg from a friend who had more of them than she knew what to do with. They breed like buneary, you know," she said with a wink. "I wasn't sure who to give it to, but it looks like it decided for me."

 He shot her an annoyed look. "You can't be serious."

 "Oh, come on, you're already taking care of one pokemon. One more won't make that much of a difference."

 "Look how hyper it is, though."

 "But it likes you!"

 "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

 She smiled sweetly at him.

 "Fine," he sighed. "One more for the menagerie, I guess. This is the last one, though."

  _It's a male, by the way,_ Cutter added.

 "Yes, I can see that it's a male, Cutter."

  _Just thought I'd mention it, since you sometimes seem to have trouble discerning genders._

 "I told you already that I didn't know all gallade were male. Not everyone has the pokedex memorized, you know."

 "Now that that's settled," Doctor Lynd interjected, "You'll need to feed your eevee regularly and give him plenty of exercise. I'll also print up a sheet detailing other things you'll need, depending on how you plan to guide its development."

 Ryan looked down at the eevee, who was now chewing on the sleeve of his shirt. "Wonderful."

 "And he'll need a name."

 * * *

 Several days later, Ryan sat on the grass outside the clinic enjoying the late summer sun. He held in his hand a tennis ball - now slightly damp after several retrievals by the eevee scampering excitedly in front of him. He threw the ball hard down the grassy hill and watched the eevee take off like a shot in pursuit. "I'm starting to wonder if taking Buster was such a good idea," he said to Cutter, who sat nearby.

  _Why do you say that?_

 "Because all he does is eat, sleep, shit and run around like a maniac."

  _Doctor Lynd did say that eevee are very energetic, especially when they're young. And Buster is very fond of you._

 "Yeah, he likes me so much, he crawls in bed with me every night."

  _What's wrong with that? You and I sleep in the same bed._

 "What's wrong is that he doesn't care what position his body is in when he falls asleep. I woke up yesterday with a pair of furry nuts in my face."

  _Yes, that did look a bit - odd._

 "So why didn't you move him before I woke up?'

  _Well, you both looked so peaceful and I didn't want to disturb you,_ Cutter said, suppressing a snicker.

 "Oh, you think that's funny?" Ryan said, throwing a small dirt clod at Cutter. "Just for that, you get to mow the lawn next time."

 Buster came running back, the tennis ball in his mouth almost too big for it to carry. He dropped the ball at Ryan's feet and wagged his big, fluffy tail.

  _You're not really going to give him back, are you?_ Cutter asked softly.

 Ryan sighed and gave Buster a scratch on the head. "No, I suppose not. Doctor Lynd would probably get all sad and disappointed and stuff if I did. Speaking of which..." Ryan nodded toward the figure waddling toward them.

 "Hello, Ryan," Doctor Lynd said as she ambled up to the group. "I'm glad to see that you and Buster are getting along."

 Ryan offered a steadying hand as she lowered herself awkwardly to sit on the grass. "Don't you think you should take some time off," he said. "You're not getting around so well and you look like you're going to pop any minute now."

 "I get around well enough," she replied, "and when I 'pop', as you so eloquently put it, it won't much matter where I am, so I might as well keep busy. And speaking of keeping busy, I have something you might be interested in."

 "Do tell," Ryan said, eyeing Buster as he began rolling around on his back.

 "The owner of a machine shop in town is having a problem with some pokemon that have moved into his shop and started harassing the employees. He needs someone to get them out so they can get back to work."

 "That's not really my area of expertise. Why doesn't he get a professional pokemon trainer to handle it?"

 "Because there aren't any League trainers in town right now and word has started getting around about what you did at the NuGen facility."

 "Cutter did most of the work with that, really."

 "Then take him with you. The owner of the shop is offering to pay a very reasonable fee for the service and you did say you were looking for ways to make a little extra money." She gave him a nudge on the shoulder. "What harm is there in taking a look? If you check it out and you still think it's something you can't handle, you can always turn the job down."

 Ryan considered for a moment. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to at least look into it."

 "That's the spirit! You should take Buster with you, too. He could use the exercise and his keen sense of smell might come in handy."

 "You just don't want him zipping around the clinic."

 "He is your responsibility, you know."

 "Thanks for reminding me."

 * * *

 Ryan and his pokemon came to a large cinder block building on the far side of town. A faded sign that read "North Star Metal and Machine" hung over the door. As they approached, a tall man standing out front wearing a flannel shirt and jeans came up to meet them. "Are you the ones the veterinarian sent?" he asked.

 "Yeah. I'm Ryan Meadows. Doctor Lynd said you have a pokemon problem."

 The man extended a meaty hand. "Indeed I do. Name's Lars. I own this shop. I hope you can do something about this."

 Ryan shook Lars' hand which swallowed his own as if it were a child's. "Why don't you tell me what's been happening from the beginning."

"A few days ago, the drill press started acting up, so we opened it up to see what was wrong. When we did, the press shocked one of my workers."

 "What's so weird about that?"

 "Nothing, except that the main circuit breaker for the press was turned off. There was no power to the machine at all when it shocked him."

 "Ah. Well, that would be unusual, then."

 "It gets worse. Soon after, the other machines in the shop started acting up, too, shocking and even throwing parts of the machines at the workers. It got so bad, I had to send everyone home before someone got seriously hurt." He turned to face the building, crossing his arms. "I think my shop is infested with ghost pokemon. I hope you can get rid of them because I'm losing money every day my shop stays closed."

 "Ghost pokemon, huh? What do you think, Cutter?"

  _My abilities are affective against such creatures. I believe I can handle them if the need arises._

 "Alright," he said to Lars, "I can't promise you anything, but we'll have a look."

 Lars led Ryan in through the front office and to a door in the back behind the counter. "This leads to the shop area," Lars said, unlocking the door. "Good luck, and be careful."

 Ryan and his pokemon entered the workshop, a room the size of a small warehouse filled with large, industrial machines interspersed with racks, trays and bins full of metal products of all shapes and sizes. Sunlight slanting in from narrow windows near the ceiling cut through the gloom of the otherwise dark interior. A flip of the light switches near the door produced nothing from the large fluorescent fixtures overhead. Ryan turned to his pokemon. "Cutter, stick close. Buster, try to stay out of..." Ryan paused as Buster raised up, putting his paws on Ryan's leg. Ryan sighed and cast a weary look at Cutter. "Just tell him not to get near anything dangerous, okay?"

 The trio made their way slowly through the shadowy interior, their footsteps on the concrete floor ringing out through the utter silence. The scent of machine oil hung heavy in the air. The farther in they went, the more evident became the shop's disarray, with piles of sheet metal cast haphazardly among the orderly rows of heavy machinery and tools left hastily behind on workbenches.

 Dark, shapes occasionally appeared to move at the edges of Ryan's vision, but when scrutinized, revealed themselves to be only irregular shadows cast by collections of metal in the dim light.

 A clattering of metal falling to the ground echoed from a distant corner of the workshop. Cutter's head swiveled toward the noise. _What was that?_

 "Don't know," Ryan replied. "Want to check it out?"

  _Not really, but I suppose we should._

 Ryan spun around at another clattering of metal, from the opposite direction but nearer. Buster lowered his head, growling.

  _Something is here,_ Cutter said, extending his arms into blades. _Be ready._

 The whine of a band saw pierced the air, followed by the hum of other machines spinning up one by one, each closer to the group than the last. Ryan started backing toward an empty workbench when suddenly, a circular piece of metal came hurtling through the gloom toward him, whizzing past his head close enough that he could feel the wind of its passage on his cheek. Cutter knocked another flying piece of metal aimed at Ryan aside with a sweep of an arm blade. _I can't see where they're coming from, can you?_

 Ryan saw shadowy shapes separate from some of the machines and begin floating toward him. Bolts of electricity began arcing between some of the hovering shapes, briefly illuminating them enough for Ryan to see that they consisted of collections of gears, cogs and various inner workings of the machines they arose from. "Yeah, I see them," he said, counting more than half a dozen of the animated assemblages, "and I think we might be in over our heads, here."

  _I agree,_ Cutter responded, facing three more that emerged with a clangor of metal rods being knocked from their racks.

 "Okay, everyone, back to the door!" Ryan called out, and began hurrying toward the entrance. The sounds of crashing metal and staccato pops of electricity followed behind them as they fled. Their escape, however was cut short as more of the gyrating assemblages of metal cut them off, forcing them to seek an alternate path. After several twists and turns dodging their attackers they found that they were being pushed farther from the exit, not closer.

 Two of the animated clusters of machine parts harried them close from behind. When one of the pursuers swooped low near Buster, the eevee growled and turned on its attacker. The eevee leapt high, slamming its body against the spinning metal gears. The metallic creature, unfazed, responded by sending one of its clustered gears shooting back at Buster like a spinning blade. Buster screeched in pain as the gear slammed into its tiny body, sending it tumbling into a large workbench.

 Ryan turned and saw Buster lying unmoving on floor and swore. "Cutter, watch my back!" he shouted as he grabbed a length of aluminum rod from a nearby rack and charged the cluster of gears advancing on Buster. Ryan swung the rod like a staff, smacking the metal creature several times while dancing nimbly away from its swooping counterattacks. Behind him, he heard Cutter's blades ringing off the body of the second creature. Finally, seeing an opening, Ryan drove the metal rod into the rotating gears, the soft aluminum wrapping up around them, binding and fouling their movement. With a raspy, grinding noise, it retreated.

 Ryan scooped up Buster and ducked behind the large workbench while Cutter, arm blades aglow with a shimmering purple light, drove the other metal creature back. Ryan pulled out his cell phone, popped up just long enough to snap a photo of the retreating creature into his pokedex app, then hunkered back down behind the cover of the workbench. He then turned his attention to his eevee who whined piteously in his arms, his white ruff streaked red with blood. "Dammit, Buster," he said softly, "Why'd you have to do something foolish like that?"

 Cutter joined them behind the workbench. _It appears they've been driven back for the moment._ His eyes fell upon the wounded eevee. _How bad is it?_

 "Bad enough. I don't have anything to help him, either. I should've known something like this might happen, I just... I've never done anything like this before."

  _Don't worry, I can help._

 "You can?"

  _Yes. Set him down on the floor._

 Ryan did as instructed. Cutter placed his hands on Buster and they began to glow with a soft, pulsing light. Slowly, the wounds on Buster's side began to close.

 "I didn't know you had healing abilities, Cutter," Ryan said.

  _One of my many skills._

 "Wait a minute. If you can do that, then why didn't you heal yourself after the houndoom attacked you back at NuGen?"

  _Because the healing pulses of psychic energy I generate have to resonate between myself and another living creature in order to build up enough power to be effective. And since the energy waves peak on the odd reflections and trough on the even ones, I can only heal another, not myself._

 "Ah. Right." Ryan's phone chimed, drawing his attention. "Got a match on the photo," he said as he began reading the information being displayed by the pokedex. "According to this, the things attacking us aren't ghost pokemon. They're metallic pokemon called 'klang'. Let's see, they shock, throw gears... Yeah, pretty much figured that last part out already."

  _This is not good news. My abilities aren't going to do much good against metallic pokemon._

 "Not what I wanted to hear right now, Cutter."

  _There's a larger door near the back of the workshop. Couldn't we escape there?_

 "I already thought about that, but I saw that it was padlocked from the outside when we arrived. Besides," he said, peeking up over the workbench, "it looks like there are even more of them on that side of the shop." Ryan ducked his head back down just as a spinning gear flew toward him, embedding itself in a nearby wall. It quivered there for a moment then tore itself loose, flying back the way it came. "Dammit! Looks like they're coming back. We're going to have to make a break for it."

  _I'm almost done. Just give me a few more..._ Cutter pulled his hands away as Buster's body began to ripple and convulse.

 "What's happening? What did you do?"

  _Nothing! All I did was heal him!_

 The eevee's body seemed to inflate, its limbs growing longer in short, rapid spurts. Its fur began to change as well, its color fading from a medium brown to a light grey.

  _Wait, I think - he's evolving!_

 A wave of expansion rippled from Buster's head, down through his rib cage and along his spine, muscle and bone thickening in its wake. The rapid growth continued until at last, when the final throes of his metamorphosis ceased, his entire body had enlarged to more than triple its original size. Buster rolled to his feet and shook himself out vigorously, shedding the white ruff of fur from his neck, leaving a uniformly smooth coat of glossy, grey fur slashed with angular black stripes.

 Ryan had little time to marvel at the sudden change in his pokemon as more gears came flying over the top of the workbench from the group of klang advancing on their position. Ryan saw Buster's fur lay down against against his body then harden into a shiny, metallic coat. Buster emitted a high-pitched screech then charged headlong at the klang. A pair of gears shot from the attacking pokemon but bounced harmlessly off Buster's metallic coat as he dove at the klang, his slashing metallic claws sending sparks flying off their gearlike bodies.

 "Alright, let's move!" Ryan said to Cutter. "Tell Buster to make for the door."

 The trio started fighting their way through the workshop, Buster sweeping a path forward through the klang, their gears grinding ineffectively against his armored body while Cutter held off the klang pressing in from the rear.

 As they neared the exit, Ryan stumbled and a klang that slipped in from their flank closed in on him. Ryan looked desperately around for a weapon and spied a hand drill lying on the floor a short distance away. He scrambled for it, snatching it up as the klang swooped in to strike. He held it up and pulled the drill's trigger, its metal-boring bit spinning with a whine. The klang stopped, hovering in place before the drill in Ryan's hand.

  _Ryan, something strange is happening_.

 "What do you mean, something strange?"

  _The klang have all stopped. It looks like they're focused on you. And I sense a change in their mood. They feel - expectant._

 "Expectant?"

  _Yes. It actually feels quite a bit like Buster does when he wants you to throw a tennis ball for him._

 "Really?" Ryan released the drill's trigger then revved it a couple times. The klang revved its gears in response, echoed by a similar sound from the other klang surrounding the group. He slowly waved the drill back and forth, which the klang nearest him followed intently.

  _You definitely have their attention, now._

 Ryan stood, then slowly walked toward a nearby bench vise which held a square piece of sheet metal clamped in its jaws. Ryan waggled the drill at the klang then drilled a hole in the metal, the klang hovering near as he did. When he finished, the klang bobbled up and down, its gears revving excitedly. Ryan set the drill down on the bench, then stepped away.

 The klang hovered over the drill, enveloping it into its gearlike structure, then used it to drill another hole next to the one Ryan had just made. When it was done, the other klang converged on the first and Ryan watched as they passed the drill among themselves, taking turns making more holes in the sheet metal.

 "I'll be damned. Hey, Cutter, can you talk to these things?"

  _Yes, I believe so. Why?_

 "Because I think I have an idea."

 * * *

 Lars rushed over to Ryan and his pokemon as they emerged from the workshop. "You are alright, I hope? I heard quite the commotion from inside."

 "Yes, we're all fine except for maybe a few bumps and bruises," Ryan said, "and we have some very good news for you."

 "Oh, thank goodness," Lars said. "So you got rid of them, then?"

 "Nope," Ryan said with a grin, "they're all still in there."

 Lars frowned. "I don't understand. How is this good news if I can't open my shop?"

 "Let me explain. You see, you don't have ghost pokemon running around in there, you have machine pokemon called 'klang'. Apparently they moved in a week or so ago, attracted by all the machinery you have here. It turns out that they aren't vicious, just territorial. They reason they attacked the workers is because when they opened up that drill press and started working on it, the klang thought the workers were trying to force them out of their home. That's also why they came after us, at first."

 "I see. But how does this help me?"

 "Because they don't just like machines, they like doing stuff with them. I showed them how to drill a hole in some metal and they started making more holes in perfectly spaced rows. I'll bet you can train them to do just about anything in that shop. With all the extra help, I bet your workers could double their output - maybe more." Ryan held up his cell phone which currently displayed an encyclopedia page on the klang. "I also looked up some info on these critters and it says that they can integrate themselves into pieces of machinery, even growing replacement parts for them when they wear out."

 "I admit, that sounds very interesting, but won't they be a danger to the employees?"

 "Actually, Cutter, here, had a talk with them and they agreed to play nice with everyone as long as nobody tries to kick them out. They'll work for you and even keep all your machines in top condition. All you have to do is feed them a bit of scrap metal now and then, and maybe a bit of electricity."

 "I had no idea they could be so useful. If what you're saying is true, I'd gladly let them stay. I'd like to see this for myself before I call my workers back, though."

 "Of course. Let's go inside and I can get you acquainted with your new tenants."

 * * *

 "So," Doctor Lynd said, settling back into a chair, "you not only solved his pokemon problem but you actually helped his business and the pokemon themselves at the same time. I have to say, I'm impressed."

 Ryan quirked a small smile. "Things got pretty dicey for a minute but we managed to pull it off in the end."

 "That still doesn't quite explain how Buster evolved into his new form. I don't think I've ever seen an eevee evolve like this before."

 "Apparently, no one else has, either. Because I'm the first one to ID it, I even got to submit a name for it."

 "So, what did you decide to name this new species?"

 "Metalleon. Seemed appropriate, since he's all metal-y. I submitted it less than an hour ago and I've already got pokemon researchers blowing up my e-mail. Anyway, I'm going to go grab something to eat. Could you give Buster a once-over? Like I said, things got pretty hairy in that shop and he took a beating before he..." Ryan made a vague, sweeping gesture at Buster who cocked his head in response. "...you know."

 She waved him away and turned her attention to Buster, calling him up onto an exam table. "So, Cutter," she began once Ryan had left the room, "how are things working out with you and Ryan?" she asked.

 Cutter shrugged. _Okay, I guess._

 "That didn't sound very enthusiastic," she said, examining Buster's rib cage. "Is something wrong?"

  _No, not exactly. It's just that I'm having a hard time understanding him._

 "How so?"

  _Sometimes he feels so - distant. Whenever I'm around him for extended periods, he gets uncomfortable, sometimes even irritable. At first I thought he just wanted more space, but whenever I distanced myself for any length of time, it elicited feelings of anxiety from him._

 "I see. He's probably still adjusting to having someone like you around."

  _I suppose._

 "You've only known each other for a little while. Just give it some time."

 Cutter nodded silently.

 "And you," she said to Buster, running her hands through his fur, "are made of some pretty tough stuff because I can't find a thing wrong with you. In fact, you look..." A sharp intake of breath cut off her words as she suddenly bent forward, holding her stomach.

 Cutter rushed to her side. _What's the matter? Is something wrong?_

 "No, but I need you to go get Ryan. Tell him I'm going into labor."

 Cutter dashed off to the kitchen and returned a short time later with Ryan in tow. He rushed over to Doctor Lynd who stood leaning against a counter. "Okay, what do we do?" he asked frantically. "Should I call someone? Should I get you something?"

 "Ryan, calm down," she said evenly.

 "Do I need to call the hospital? Where's my phone? I just had the damn thing! Where'd I put it? I think it's in the kitchen..."

 "Ryan!" Doctor Lynd's raised voice immediately silenced him. "Listen to me. I've done this many times before and we have plenty of time. Now, I want you to stop, close your eyes and take three deep breaths."

 "Okay, but I just want to make sure..."

 "Three deep breaths, Ryan. Eyes closed. Now." She waited until he complied, counting out each breath for him. "Good. Now, you're going to get my keys out of my purse and you're going to drive me slowly - _slowly_ \- to the hospital, okay?

 "Okay," he said, and began rummaging through her purse which sat on a nearby table. As he returned with her keys she clutched her stomach again.

 "Change of plans," she said through gritted teeth. "You're going to help me up onto that exam table and we're going to deliver this baby here."

 "What are you talking about? You just said we have plenty of time!"

 "Those contractions were about two minutes apart. This baby's coming and it's coming now."

 Ryan's eyes widened. "But I can't deliver a baby. I don't know how!"

 "Fortunately, I do, and everything we'll need is here. Now prop up the exam table, get me on it and I'll tell you what supplies and instruments we'll need."

 The minutes that followed were a flurry of activity as Ryan scurried from cabinet to cabinet retrieving towels, disinfectant, latex gloves and various medical instruments and tools.

 Ryan's pokemon stood nearby in quiet anticipation, watching as Doctor Lynd lay on the exam table. Long, measured breaths were punctuated by words of instruction and brief cries of pain. Sounds of exertion and words of encouragement began to overlap and grow in intensity, reaching a crescendo as Doctor Lynd uttered long cry of pain which was joined by a another, higher-pitched cry.

 Ryan held the squalling newborn, still dripping with its birth fluids, in his gloved hands, "It's a boy," he declared.

 "A boy!" Doctor Lynd breathed. "Let me see him."

 Ryan laid the infant on his mother's stomach, careful not to over-stretch the umbilical cord that still tethered him to his mother's body. She looked down at him, her face still flushed with the exertions of her labor, and beamed.

 Ryan eyed the newborn with concern. "Are you sure he's supposed to be that color? That doesn't look like a very healthy shade of purple."

 "He's fine, Ryan. You can relax," She said, grasping the infant's tiny hand. "You did an amazing job."

 yan took a clean cloth and dabbed the sweat off Doctor Lynd's face. "You did all the work. All I did was play catcher."

 "You know, you have an uncanny talent for underestimating yourself."

  _Buster wants to know if you want him to clean the baby off for you,_ Cutter said, gesturing toward the Ryan's metalleon who was eyeing the still-wet infant.

 "Um, that's okay. I got it," Ryan said and began carefully wiping off the tiny newborn with a towel. "So, what's his name?" he asked.

 "Alexander Ryan Lynd."

 "Wait, did you say Alexander _Ryan_..."

 "My husband James wanted his middle name to be Bartholomew," she said, making a face. "I never liked it, but since we agreed that I'd pick the name if it was a girl and he'd pick the name if it was a boy, there wasn't much I could say. Now you've given me a very good excuse to give him what I think is a much nicer name. If its alright with you, of course," she added.

 "Sure, Doctor Lynd. I don't mind."

 "Ryan, you don't have to keep calling me Doctor Lynd, especially not after today. You can call me Karen."

 "Karen," he said, testing the name out. "I don't know. It feels kinda weird - like calling your mother by her first name."

 "I see," she said, patting him on the arm. "In that case, Doctor Lynd will do just fine."

 * * *

 Ryan walked out with Doctor Lynd as the paramedics wheeled her and her baby out of the clinic on a gurney. He and his pokemon stood outside in the cool evening air and watched until the ambulance drove out of sight. "Well, you wanted to know how little humans were made," he said to Cutter. "What did you think?"

  _I must admit, it was rather messy and a little frightening._ Cutter paused, then looked up at Ryan. _Nevertheless, watching a new life come into being... It was a profound experience and I feel privileged to have been a part of it. Don't you feel the same way?_

 "What I feel," he said, stretching his arms over his head, "is tired. We fought our way through a metal madhouse, made peace with a bunch of pokemon who tried to take our heads off only minutes before and delivered a baby - _a freaking baby_ \- all in one day. That ekans in the back can give the stink-eye to someone else tonight because I'm calling it a day."


	3. Storm Clouds on the Horizon

**The Winds of Time**

**Chapter 3**

**Storm Clouds on the Horizon**

 

 

 Arceus stood at the edge of the mountain plateau focusing his gaze down on the land below, his brow drawn taut over eyes grown tired from their straining. His head raised with the awareness that others had appeared on the mountain with him. His surprise lasted only a moment with the realization that only one was so deft with space to create a portal even he didn't notice until it was gone. "Hello, Palkia," he said without looking. "It is good that you were able to come so quickly."

 "Your words seemed urgent," Palkia said, "though you should know that I was in the middle of something rather important. Nonetheless, I managed to find the triplets as you requested."

 At that, Arceus turned to face his visitors. Foremost was Palkia - guardian of the spatial continuum. Unlike the jagged profile of his brother Dialga, Palkia's form was composed of graceful contours, his long neck curving into his body which swept gracefully down into a strong, yet finely tapered tail.

 The sunlight reflecting off of the pearlescent jewels in Palkia's shoulders limned the three tiny forms floating in the air next to Palkia's head in a shimmering glow. Each of the three was marked with a red jewel on their foreheads as well as on each of their twin tails. Their appearance was practically identical except for the coloration of their heads: the first being yellow, the second pink and the third blue.

 "Uxie, Mesprit, Azelf, welcome," Arceus said to the yellow, pink and blue-headed pokemon respectively. He turned to Palkia. "What is this important matter you spoke of?"

 "The tectonic activity along the western edge of the Pacific Rim has been unusually severe," Palkia said. "The coastlines from Kanto to Sinnoh have been taking a pounding from tsunamis and earthquakes."

 "That is troubling, but how does that involve you?"

 "Groudon is working to relieve the tectonic stresses but since the active areas are along the ocean floor, he needs Kyogre to keep him alive while he works deep underwater." Palkia sighed. "You know how they bicker. Without me to watch them, they wouldn't get anything done."

 "Will they be able to work in your absence?" Arceus asked.

 Palkia quirked a half-smile. "Don't worry. I managed to coax Rayquaza down from the sky long enough to keep an eye on them. He'll make sure they get the job done."

 The pink-headed pokemon darted forward. _I hope you told him to keep clear of the humans,_ it said, its psychic voice piping and bubbly. _Every time that great big garter snake shows up, he scares people so much they think it’s the end of the world!_

  _I'm sure everything will be fine, Mesprit,_ the yellow-headed one said. _More to the point, judging by the fact that Arceus has called not only the three of us here but Palkia as well, it stands to reason that Arceus has a matter of no small significance to discuss with us._

 "Indeed I do, Uxie," Arceus said.

  _Then spill it!_ the blue-headed one interjected, bobbing anxiously in the air. _The sooner we get started, the better!_

  _He_ was _spilling it,_ Mesprit said, pointing one of its tails at Azelf, _until_ you _interrupted him._

  _Stop your prattling, both of you!_ Uxie snapped. It turned and gestured to Arceus as graciously as its tiny arms could manage. _Please, continue._

 "The Winds of Time have shifted and grow colder with each passing day," Arceus said, addressing the group. "I believe that events are now in motion that, if left to progress on their own, will prove disastrous for us all. I need the four of you to investigate and see what can be done."

  _Where should we begin?_ Azelf asked.

 "There, to the south," Arceus said, nodding toward where he'd been gazing. "I wish I could tell you more, but for now, what we are chasing is as a scent on the wind."

 The three tiny pokemon nodded in unison, then disappeared with a pop of displaced air, leaving only Palkia and Arceus on the mountaintop.

 "I grow tired of cleaning up after my brother's negligence," Palkia said with a voice like distant thunder. "If things don't change, there will be a reckoning. That, I promise."

 Arceus watched the space around Palkia twist and draw around him like a cloak. In a heartbeat, it unfolded and Palkia had disappeared. "I fear that before this is over," he said to the emptiness where Palkia stood, "there will be a reckoning for us all." 

 * * *

 Cutter stood at the window of the room that he and Ryan shared, gazing out at the forest just past the hill upon which the clinic sat. The song of starly perched in the oak trees was carried on the cool morning breeze that wafted in through the window which was opened just enough to keep the stuffiness out of the room. Cutter turned when he heard Ryan finally stirring from his slumber.

 Ryan pulled the covers back and pushed himself slowly upright. Cutter's eyes fell on the long, thin scars that slanted across Ryan's back in pale streaks. He allowed his gaze to linger only a moment before looking away. Ryan always glared at him whenever he caught him staring at them.

 Cutter sat down and edged up next to Ryan who sat on the edge of the bed in his boxers. He leaned into Ryan's side, soaking in the warmth of his body. These few early morning moments while Ryan slowly roused to wakefulness were the only times Ryan didn't seem to mind such contact.

 Ryan stretched and yawned, then groped for his cell phone on the small table next to the bed. "Let's see," he muttered, flipping through his messages. "Pictures of Alexander," he leafed through several photos of Doctor Lynd's infant son being held by his fourteen year old sister Christina and his seven year old sister Jennifer, "and a message from Jennifer: 'My little brother is awesome. You're the best. Heart emoji, heart emoji, smiley face, heart emoji.' More e-mails about Buster..." he stopped, frowning when the screen flickered erratically. The messages disappeared, replaced by garbled data.

  _Something wrong?_ Cutter asked.

 "Not sure. Could be a glitch," he said as he fiddled with his phone. A short time later, the screen returned to normal. "I think I got it back to... oh dammit. It's a virus."

  _A virus?_

 "Yeah. A bit of malicious code that people with too much time on their hands like to cook up that makes computing devices go haywire. See here," he said, pointing to a tiny image flitting around the home screen, "viruses sometimes leave a calling card, like this little bird thing that's bouncing around the screen."

 Cutter leaned in, scrutinizing the phone's screen. _That's not a virus. That's a porygon._

 Ryan looked at Cutter. "What the hell's a porygon?"

  _It's a pokemon comprised entirely of computer code. What's more,_ he said, focusing on the birdlike image, _I think I know this porygon. May I?_ Cutter extended a hand toward the phone.

 "Sure." He handed the phone to Cutter who hopped off the bed and placed it on the floor face up.

  _Hey, Porygon, it's me, Cutter,_ he said, leaning over the phone. _Come on out._

 A moment later, a beam of light issued from the screen of the phone, terminating in a point around which red and blue geometric shapes materialized and assembled into a polygonal birdlike creature that hovered in the air before them. It swivelled to face Cutter and emitted an electronic trill.

 "I thought you said these things were made of computer code," Ryan said, eyeing the newcomer suspiciously. "It looks pretty real to me. And how exactly do you know this porygon?"

  _They_ are _made of computer code. It's... complicated. And this porygon used to work with me at NuGen._

 "Okay, but what's it doing here?"

 The porygon emitted a series of beeps, buzzes and twitters which Cutter listened to intently. _It seems that the higher-ups at NuGen were quite upset after the incident with Doctor Talbot so they sent a team over to find out what he'd been doing at the facility. Afterward, they started purging all the data related to Doctor Talbot's research. Even though Porygon never worked on Doctor Talbot's secret program, he overheard that they were going to purge him too, just to be on the safe side, so he left. He said he found me by tracking the video you uploaded back to your phone._

 "So he came to see you?"

  _Yes and no. Now that he's left NuGen he's looking for a safe place to live._ Cutter looked up at Ryan with hopeful eyes. _You'll let him stay, won't you?_

 "Another one? Oh, come on, Cutter, I already have two pokemon."

  _He won't be a bother. In fact, he likes staying inside of computing devices most of the time. He can live in your phone and you won't even know that he's there. And he's really good at processing and organizing data, too. I promise you won't regret having him around._

 Ryan looked at Cutter and the porygon then sighed heavily. "Okay, he can stay, but this is absolutely the last one, got it? And I'm not calling it 'Porygon'. It sounds like a skin condition." He regarded the porygon with folded arms. "So you're good at finding stuff, huh? How about I call you 'Trace'?"

 It beeped and nodded excitedly.

  _By the way, Doctor Lynd is back and she's waiting for you downstairs,_ Cutter added.

 "Really? I didn't think she'd be back so soon."

  _And she brought rawst berry muffins. I had one already and it was very good. Don't worry,_ he added, noting his crestfallen expression, _she saved some for you._

 Ryan quickly got dressed and headed out of the room. "Hey, Cutter," he said, pausing at the doorway, "do me a favor and let Buster out".

 Cutter glanced over at the pile of towels near the sofa bed where a gray, furry tail suddenly poked out, wagging energetically.

 * * *

 Ryan entered the kitchen and found Doctor Lynd sitting at the table, looking down at her newborn held in her arms. He paused when he saw that the top buttons on her shirt were undone and she was holding the baby to her breast. "Sorry. I didn't mean to intrude," he said. "I'll come back later."

 "Don't be silly," she said, smiling. "Come sit with me. I want to catch up with you and find out how things have been in my absence. And I brought something for you and Cutter." She nodded to the plate of muffins on the table.

 Ryan sat down across the table from Doctor Lynd and grabbed one of the muffins. "I actually expected you to be gone longer than just a week. Are you sure you're up to working again?"

 "I'll be fine. I did the same thing with Jennifer when she was born. Besides, I have help."

 Ryan took a bite of the muffin. The rawst berries provided a tart counterpoint to the overall sweetness of the muffin. "This is pretty good," he said around a mouthful. "Where'd you get them?"

 "I'm glad you like them," Doctor Lynd smiled. "I actually made them myself."

 Ryan nodded approvingly then quickly dispatched the first muffin and started in on a second. "Not much has happened while you've been out. There have only been a couple patients brought in with minor injuries. Cutter actually healed them up himself. It kind of wears him out if he has to do it too much but he can handle the small stuff."

 Doctor Lynd buttoned her shirt back up and held her baby to her shoulder, gently patting it on the back. "Have my girls been coming in to help like I told them?"

 "Yeah. Christina and Jennifer took turns coming in after school to pitch in with cleanup or moving supplies and stuff."

 "I'm glad to see everything worked out, then." She looked down at her baby, then glanced at Ryan. "Would you like to hold Alexander?"

 "Oh, I don't think I should," Ryan said around the last of his second muffin. "I've never held a baby before and I'd probably do it wrong."

 "You never have? In that case you definitely need to hold him." She stood up and walked around the table. "Just hold him like I'm doing - body with the right arm, head with the left. Its easy."

 "I don't know," Ryan said, eyeing the infant warily. "He probably won't like me."

 "Babies like everyone. Now here," she said, settling the baby into his arms before he could object further. "So, how has Buster been?"

 "Pretty good," he said, looking down with mild discomfiture at the infant in his arms. "His fur's all shiny and his stripes have gotten darker now that I put bluk berries in with his food like you told me."

 "I thought that would help. Bluk berries are rich in manganese which most pokemon with metallic body compositions need." She went to the refrigerator and poured two glasses of orange juice. "You know, I've always been fascinated by eevee evolutions."

 "Why's that?"

 "Because their evolutions often tell stories about the people they're close to."

 "How do you figure? A lot of them evolve by being exposed to energetic minerals."

 "That's true. In some cases, exposure to certain types of stones or crystals acts as a catalyst for their changes." She returned to the table and set one of the glasses in front of Ryan. "But more often it's their connection to their human partners that trigger their metamorphosis. Eevee that become espeon and umbreon are perfect examples of this." she returned to her chair and regarded Ryan with a tilted head and a small smile "You know, I can't help wondering if there's a story behind Buster, too."

 Ryan frowned. "What do you mean?"

 "Your eevee had a very short childhood. It wound up in a dangerous situation, got hurt and grew up much more quickly than anyone would've expected. Now, because of that, it walks around with a coat of armor to protect it from the dangers of the world." She looked at the baby in his arms. "But sometimes not."

 "Or it could be that it was surrounded by a whole bunch of metal when it changed."

 She shrugged. "It could be that. But I do know one thing: sometimes our pokemon know us better than we know ourselves."

 The appearance of a pokemon at the kitchen door diverted Ryan's attention. His eyes grew wide at the sight of the towering, brown-skinned, broad-shouldered monstrosity that literally filled the doorway. It stood upright with a thick, muscular tail trailing behind it. So massive was it that it had to duck its head and turn slightly sideways to fit through the doorway as it entered. Powerful muscles flexed beneath its thick hide with every step as it made its way toward the table.

 Ryan quickly stood and backed away a few steps. "Please tell me one of your patients isn't loose, Doc."

 "It's okay, Ryan," she said, "this is one of mine. Her name is Kala. She's a kangaskhan."

 The kangaskhan reached toward the baby still held in Ryan's arms with a hand tipped with large, thick claws. Ryan pulled back, turning away. "Well, it looks dangerous as hell. Are you sure you want it near your baby?"

 "Kala has been a faithful and trusted nursemaid to every single one of my children for the past seventeen years. In fact, I brought her here to help look after Alexander while I work."

 Ryan blinked in surprise. "This giant slab of meat and claws is your nursemaid?"

 "Her name is Kala," she said firmly, "and yes, she is. Give Alexander to her and you can see for yourself."

 He gave her an incredulous look. "Seriously?"

 "Yes Ryan. Give Kala the baby."

 Ryan looked up with a dubious eye at the kangaskhan who towered over him by a foot and a half and held the baby out ever-so-slightly away from his body.

 Kala reached down, deftly scooping Alexander up in its giant, clawed hands and settled him gently in her arms with practiced grace. She dipped her head down, nuzzling the baby's cheek, making a soft burbling sound.

 Ryan watched the enormous pokemon as it handled the baby. Seeing no complaint from the infant, he shrugged then walked to a window and looked outside where he saw Buster lying on the grass enjoying the late-morning sun. "So, what did your husband think about your impromptu name change for Alexander?"

 "He was so happy that we finally had a boy, he didn't care. I can understand how he felt. I wanted a boy pretty badly myself. Don't get me wrong," she added, "I love my girls more than anything, but after three of them, I was ready for a change."

 "I was just worried that he might have been less than pleased about it and it would wind up causing some bad blood."

 "He approves, if that's what you're worried about," she said. She stood up and walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And I wanted to thank you for what you did for me and my son. You showed real grace under pressure, you know. Believe me when I say that's an uncommon quality."

 He turned to face her and shrugged. "I just did what needed doing."

 "You may not think much of it, but it means a great deal to me." She took his hand in both of hers and smiled. "Thank you, Ryan."

 He stood unmoving for a short time in uneasy silence then nodded his head. "Sure. No problem."

 Kala sniffed at the baby then drew back with narrowed eyes. She looked at Doctor Lynd and made a throaty, rumbling noise.

 "I take it you've never changed a diaper before, either," she said to Ryan.

 "No. Why?"

 "Because you're about to learn another important life skill."

 * * *

 "That was foul," Ryan said, walking down the hallway toward the waiting room. "There's gotta be something wrong with that baby's guts."

 "That's just how they are at this age," Doctor Lynd said, following after him. "You'll have to get used to it when you have children of your own."

 Ryan turned around. "Who said I wanted to have any kids, especially if I have to clean up a toxic spill like that ten times a day."

 "You say that now, but trust me, you'll change your mind when you find the right girl."

 "Whatever. Seriously, though, did a grimer crawl into that kid's diaper and die? I almost puked." Ryan closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm going outside to get some air."

 Before Ryan could leave, the front door opened and two girls walked in whom Ryan recognized as Doctor Lynd's daughters Christina and Jennifer. Buster trotted alongside Jennifer as she entered. Christina, the older of the two, waved a greeting to Ryan then darted up to her mother and began fussing over the baby.

 "I didn't expect to see you two here today," Doctor Lynd said, handing Alexander over to Christina.

 "Today's full of surprises," Christina said with a grin. "The next one should be coming any second now."

 A moment later, the door opened again and two more people entered the clinic. The first - a blonde-haired man of average height but robust build - Ryan recognized as Doctor Lynd's husband James. The second person was someone new - a girl who looked to be about his own age who wore a white, short-sleeved shirt with a stylized poké ball graphic on the front and tight blue jeans. Her long, light brown hair was frosted blue at the tips.

 "Stacy!" Doctor Lynd exclaimed and rushed forward, wrapping her up in a hug. "I thought you weren't going to be home for another few days."

 "The tournament ran short," Stacy said, "and I wanted to see my baby brother."

 "Ryan, I'd like to introduce you to my eldest daughter Stacy," Doctor Lynd said. "She just came back from a pokemon tournament in Driftveil City."

 Ryan extended a hand to Stacy. "So you were in Unova, huh? I've never been to the east coast. What's it like?"

 "Busy," she said, shaking his hand. "Castelia makes Angel City look sleepy. If you go upstate, though, there's a lot of woodland with sawsbuck all over the place."

 "So, how did you do?" Doctor Lynd asked.

 "Unfortunately, I got knocked out in the semifinals," Stacy replied. "But I got to battle the other semifinal loser for third place and I crushed him. I didn't win the tournament but a podium finish isn't bad, either. I'm now ranked seventeenth worldwide in team doubles."

 Stacy's sisters cheered and congratulated her. Ryan, meanwhile, excused himself and busied himself with his duties around the clinic while Doctor Lynd and her family spent the next few hours catching up with Stacy.

 Later that day, a parcel delivery truck arrived at the clinic with a package for Ryan. After signing for it, he examined the label and a grin spread across his face.

  _What is it?_ Cutter asked.

 "Something cool," he replied. "Come around to the back of the clinic and I'll show you."

 Cutter followed him to where the trash cans stood lined up along the back wall of the building. Ryan pulled a multitool out of his pocket and cut open the box. He reached inside and pulled out a leather sheath containing a bundle of three parallel rods made of a dull, aluminum-like metal, each about two feet in length. Ryan removed the rods from the sheath then turned the bundle over in his hands, examining it. "Oh, this is nice," he said, smiling. "He really outdid himself on this one."

  _So, what is it?_ Cutter asked.

 Ryan pressed a catch on the middle rod and the other two rods swung free on hinges that Cutter could now see joined the rods together. The bundle swiveled open and locked into a single metal rod about six feet long. "It's a staff," Ryan said, holding up in front of him. "Specifically, its a metal, folding staff."

  _Who sent it to you?_

 "I had Lars make it for me. You remember Lars from the machine shop? After we solved his klang problem he said that if I needed his help, all I had to do was ask. So I had him make me this sweet folding staff. It's made of metal from plates of shed lairon hide, so it's light, flexible and tough." He gave the staff a one-handed twirl. "Perfectly balanced and the hinges are rock-solid, too. That man is a real craftsman."

  _I take it you've used one of these before._

 "I know a few moves," he said. He pressed the recessed catch in the middle of the staff and folded it back up, replacing it in its sheath. He slipped the sheath's buckled strap over his shoulder, settling it across his back. "Sits nice, too." His mouth set in a grim expression. "Next time some nasty business goes down, I'll be ready."

 Later that day, as closing time drew near and Doctor Lynd's family began to leave, Ryan was approached by Christina.

 "Stacy and I are going to be taking Jennifer on a camping trip to catch her first pokemon," she said, adjusting the tie that held her blonde hair in a ponytail. "How'd you like to come?"

 "That's alright," Ryan said. "I have enough pokemon already."

 "Then don't catch any. I know I don't plan to." She looked up at him with her bright, blue eyes and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun. We're taking our family's RV which is pretty plush and there's this great little swimming spot we found along the river."

 Ryan thought for a moment. "Maybe. But would your parents going to be okay with me tagging along?"

 "Why wouldn't they be?"

 "Because I doubt your mother would want some guy alone with her daughters on a camping trip."

 "Please tell me you're not that clueless," Christina said. When she saw the dubious expression on his face she rolled her eyes and sighed loudly, then grabbed his arm and pulled him to the exam area where Doctor Lynd was sorting a rack of medications.

 Doctor Lynd's eyes lifted from the bottles in front of her. "Yes?"

 "Is it okay if Ryan comes along on our camping trip?" Christina asked.

 "I think that's an excellent idea," Doctor Lynd said, smiling.

 Ryan blinked in surprise. "Really?"

 "Yes, really," Doctor Lynd replied. "A few days out of the clinic would do you some good. Go have some fun. There'll be plenty of time to push a broom later."

 "Great!" Christina said. "Stacy's going to be doing some shopping before we go. I'll have her drop by so you can pick up anything you need. Oh, and don't forget to bring something to swim in," she added with a grin.

 * * *

 Several days later, Ryan went with Stacy to pick up some supplies for the upcoming trip, including food, propane and an assortment of other basic camping gear. At the end of the shopping trip, Stacy brought them to a pokemon supply store.

 "Last stop," Stacy said as they walked into the store. "We need to get some healing supplies and some poké balls for you and Jennifer."

 "Me?" Ryan said. "I already told Christina I'm not interested in catching more pokemon."

 "That may be, but if you run across dangerous wild pokemon in the woods, catching them is sometimes the best way to avoid getting hurt if things get nasty. Afterward, you can take them to a Pokemon Ranger if you don't want to keep them and they'll release them for you. Besides, my mother tells me you don't even have poké balls for your own pokemon."

 "They seem to be doing fine as is."

 "Maybe so, but if something happens and they get hurt, are you going to be able to carry them out yourself, especially if you're getting chased by a wild pokemon?"

 "Alright, fine," Ryan sighed, "I see your point. I've never used a poké ball before, though. How exactly do they work?"

 "Don't worry, there's nothing to it. When you're ready to catch a pokemon, all you have to do is activate the ball and throw it. You don't have to actually hit the pokemon with it, but you do want to get as close as you can. Once the proximity sensor on the ball detects a pokemon, the poké ball's conversion matrix turns the pokemon into energy and sucks it up. The conversion process isn't instantaneous, though, and even in an energetic state, a pokemon can still bust out of the poké ball before the conversion is complete. To keep that from happening, poké balls have two locking mechanisms: a maglock and a servo lock. The maglock is a series of electromagnets that hold the ball closed while the conversion process is underway. The servo lock is a mechanical linkage activated by a servo that physically locks the two halves of the poké ball together once the conversion process is complete. Once you hear the click of the servo lock engaging, that's when you know you've got 'em."

 "Seems easy enough, but why don't they just make poké balls that lock as soon as they close? I mean, it seems like it would be pretty easy to make them with ratchet hinges or latches or something."

 "Early poké balls were designed like that, but the problem was that they'd lock up while the pokemon was still fighting the conversion process. The ball would build up so much internal pressure, it would rupture if the pokemon managed to fight its way out. Sometimes the pressure would build up enough to make the ball explode, which sent shrapnel flying everywhere as well as leaving you with a pissed off wild pokemon to deal with. Either way, the ball would be a useless hunk of twisted metal afterward. The way they're built now, the most you'll have to do is replace a few components in the conversion matrix if a pokemon escapes. Sometimes all the ball needs is a recharge to get it working again.

 Ryan scanned the shelves which contained a wide assortment of poké balls of different types and colors. "I didn't know there were so many different kinds. So, what's the difference between all of them?"

 "Typically, the more expensive ones have stronger maglocks and faster conversion times, which makes it easier to catch more powerful pokemon. There are also specialty poké balls, too. For example, the Divemaster is optimized for catching aquatic pokemon. For especially tough catches, they make the MagnaCharger TX. Its high-energy capacitor banks take a while to charge up, but it makes their maglocks super strong. Most League trainers call them 'timer balls' because of their charge-up time and because they look a lot like kitchen timers from the front. The ones in the black and gold boxes over there are designed with extra-cushy deluxe interiors. They also have novelty versions that make little light shows when the pokemon comes out or project short holographic messages in the air. I once knew a guy who had one that said 'boo-yah!' in big balloon letters every time his emboar came out. He was a total douche, but it made me laugh."

 "So after you catch a pokemon in one of these things, then what? They just start doing what you say?"

 "What? Oh, hell no. Putting a pokemon in a poké ball doesn't make it any less wild. It knows it got beaten and that takes some of the fight out of it, but you still have to train it before you can do anything with it. That _is_ why we're called pokemon trainers, you know."

 In the end, Ryan decided to pick up some standard poké balls and a belt designed for carrying them that also had pouches and loops for other miscellaneous gear.

 At dawn the next day, Stacy and her sisters arrived at the clinic in an RV loaded with all the essentials for a long weekend of camping and pokemon hunting. Ryan, bleary-eyed from being awake much earlier than he was accustomed, loaded the majority of his few possessions while Jennifer excitedly regaled him with descriptions of the pokemon she hoped to catch on their excursion.

 Ryan took advantage of the surprisingly spacious bed in the back of the RV to catch a few more hours of sleep while they traveled. When Ryan awoke, the scenery had changed. Looking out of the RV's large back window, he saw huge, towering pine trees crowded close on both sides of the two-lane road, the mid-morning sun peeking through occasional breaks in the canopy.

 The paved road soon gave way to winding, uneven dirt roads which loudly jostled the RV's occupants and the gear stored within. A short while later, they parked at a small campsite among what Ryan thought was a rather small number of RVs, given the season. Stacy explained the scarcity of campers here was due to there being no hookups for water or electricity at this remote site, which made it far less crowded than others.

 "Besides," Stacy said, "the whole point of camping is to get away from it all."

 As Ryan watched everyone else exit the vehicle, he noticed a small, white squirrel-like pokemon with blue stripes sitting on Christina's shoulder. "I didn't know you had a pokemon," he remarked. "What kind is it?"

 "She's a pachirisu," Christina said. "Her name's Twitch. I caught her here several years ago."

 Ryan watched the pachirisu scramble down Christina's body then dart among the pine cones on the ground, foraging for seeds. "I can see why you call her that."

 After unpacking a few essentials and setting up the RV's awning and some lawn chairs, Stacy rounded everyone up for a short hike. After the hours-long drive, everyone was eager to stretch their legs and Stacy said that the walk would let her figure out what kinds of pokemon were present and where.

 As they made their way through the forest, Ryan took in the unfamiliar sights and sounds. The trees rose high into the air - high enough to make the trees back in Arborea Hills look almost tiny in comparison. The sound of the wind sighing through their tall branches seemed to echo all around him, making the forest sound as if it were breathing in and out with the breeze. Even the distant sound of birds and other small pokemon blended in with the ebb and flow that permeated this place.

 A shuffling sound from among the trees brought him back from his reverie.

 From behind a mound of large rocks, a large, brown, bearlike pokemon ambled forward, snuffling at the ground on all fours. Its head swiveled toward the group and it stopped, staring intently at them.

 Ryan saw Cutter's arms slowly elongate into blades. Buster’s ears flattened back and his fur hardened into metal, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

 "Everyone, don't move," Stacy whispered. "It's an ursaring. If we don't provoke it, it should leave us alone."

 Just then, the large pokemon reared up on its hind legs, revealing a light tan ring-shaped mark on its abdomen, then opened its mouth, bellowing a thunderous roar that echoed among the trees. The ursaring then dropped to its feet and charged toward them.

 Before anyone else could react, Stacy detached and expanded two poké balls from her belt in a single, fluid motion, then threw them between the group and the ursaring. In a burst of light, two pokemon emerged. The first was a large feline with blue and black fur and a thick, spiky mane. The second had the appearance of a tall, bipedal rooster covered in bright orange plumage.

 "Max, Rush, shock and awe!" Stacy shouted.

 The dark-furred feline charged forward and planted itself in front of the ursaring. With a choppy, high-pitched cry, it filled the air around it with thick, arcing tendrils of electricity. The ursaring backed away several steps, visibly daunted by the blinding electrical display.

 Just when the feline pokemon looked like it would press its attack, its electrical discharge abruptly stopped and its orange-feathered companion rushed up from behind it, vaulting off of its back in a high, flying leap at the ursaring. As it came down, it slammed its fist into the ursaring's face, the force of its forward momentum magnifying the impact, sending gobbets of saliva flinging from the ursaring's mouth and driving it staggering back. Before the ursaring could recover, its attacker swept its arms in an arc, spraying a wall of fire in front it. The ursaring, still reeling from the assault, backed away, eyeing the flames between it and the group, then turned and fled back into the trees.

 The two pokemon watched until their opponent disappeared from view then returned to Stacy's side. The almost six and a half foot tall rooster pokemon leaned down and began fussing over her, murmuring a rumbling bass. Stacy smiled and gently scratched the back of its neck then reached down to pet the dark feline.

 "That was un-freaking-believable," Ryan said, which elicited giggles from Jennifer and Christina. "What kinds of pokemon are they?"

 "Yeah, they're pretty awesome. This is Max," Stacy said, nodding at the orange rooster standing over her. "He's a blaziken. He's tough as nails, but a bit of a mother hen, no pun intended. The other one is Rush, my luxray." She knelt down and ruffled Rush's mane and received an affectionate lick in return.

 "They're pretty impressive," Ryan observed, "They seem to work really well together, too."

 "The attack you saw them execute was a maneuver I sometimes use in team battles to isolate one of the opponent's pokemon from its teammate. I figured it would be a good way to drive off that ursaring." She straightened and returned the two poké balls, minus their occupants, to her belt. "Anyway, it's probably best if we head back. Now that I know there are ursaring in this part of the forest, we'll be avoiding this area for Jennifer's pokemon hunt. Plus, I don't want to run the risk of encountering any more of them."

 Stacy led the group back to the campsite where they proceeded to eat lunch. Afterward, Stacy said she'd be taking Jennifer out to look for pokemon alone, explaining that a smaller group would not only attract less attention from potentially dangerous pokemon but also be less likely to spook the pokemon they wanted to catch. After giving admonitions to be careful, Ryan and Christina wished them luck.

 After they left, Ryan amused himself by watching Buster and Twitch take turns chasing each other around while Christina chatted up some of the other campers. While he and Cutter sat drinking sodas, a guy who looked to be in his mid teens strolled up to where he sat. The newcomer wore a dark blue polo shirt, shorts and had styled blonde hair that had far more product in it than was strictly necessary.

 "Nice pokemon you've got there," the blonde-haired teen said. "I bet mine are tougher, though."

 "If you say so," Ryan replied.

 "Why don't we have a battle and find out?" He held up a poké ball in one hand and a fan of cash in the other. "One on one. Winner gets paid."

 "I'm not a trainer," Ryan said, taking a sip from his can of soda.

 "Really? Then why do you have a belt full of poké balls and two pokemon with you?"

 "I'm just here with some friends."

 "I'll bet. Tell ya what, I'll give you ten-to-one odds. My thousand against your hundred says my pokemon will wipe the floor with anything you've got."

 "I told you I'm not interested," Ryan said, his eyes narrowing. "Now why don't you just go away."

 "You've gotta be kidding me," the kid jeered. "I'm giving you ten-to-one and you're still too scared to battle? Damn, if you're that big of a wuss, just say so."

 Ryan looked up at the smug expression plastered on the kid's face. "Fine. You want to battle that bad?," he said, standing. "Let's go."

 "Now we're talking," The kid said, smiling, then rushed over to the dirt road.

 Cutter started forward but Ryan stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

 "Not this time," Ryan said. He joined the teen on the road and unfolded his staff, taking a ready position.

 The blond teen stared disdainfully at Ryan. "What are you doing?"

 "You challenged me to a battle. I accept."

 "Yeah, a pokemon battle, you idiot. That means with _pokemon_."

 "You said your pokemon could beat anything I've got. Well, I've got a big metal stick." Ryan grinned. "If you're too big of a wuss, you can always forfeit."

 "Hey, if that's how you want it," the kid chuckled. "But don't get mad when you get your ass beat." He tapped the poké ball in his hand and tall, bulky, gray-skinned pokemon with a large horn protruding from its snout emerged in a burst of light. "Okay, Rhydon, teach this guy a lesson."

 Ryan gripped his staff by the end, holding most of its length out in front of him for maximum range. The last thing he wanted was to allow that rhydon with its heavy, muscular arms and clawed hands to get within reach of him. The rhydon advanced on Ryan and as it did, Ryan countered with quick thrusts at its face. The rhydon easily batted the darting weapon away but the distraction kept it from mounting a solid offense.

 Finally, the lumbering pokemon smacked the end of the staff away with enough force to interrupt the flow of Ryan's attacks and lunged forward. Ryan dodged to the side, planting one end of his weapon into the ground. As the rhydon turned to press its attack, Ryan whipped the end of his staff upward, flinging dirt into the rhydon's face. The rhydon turned away, shaking its head and rubbing its eyes.

 The rhydon cleared its vision quickly, but the gambit distracted it long enough for Ryan to pull a vial from his pocket and fling its contents at the pokemon. A cluster of tiny, barbed, greenish-brown spheres flew through the air and stuck to the rhydon's body. Within seconds, the spheres sprouted, sending green tendrils spreading across the rhydon's thick grey hide. The pokemon seemed unfazed by the greenery, charging at Ryan again, but now Ryan saw that its movements seemed more sluggish than before.

 Ryan knocked away a lunging swipe with his staff, but the rhydon quickly reversed its motion with a backhanded strike to Ryan's face that knocked him down and split his lip. He hurried back to his feet, albeit a bit unsteadily. He wondered how much harder it would've hit him without the leech seeds sapping its strength.

 He quickly adjusted to a middle grip to fend off a flurry of close-quarters attacks. Now, the tide of the battle had turned against him. The rhydon had gotten in close and just fending off its powerful blows with his weapon sent punishing impacts into his arms. Still, he was starting to get the feel for the rhythm of the rhydon's attacks. Though it stood upright, its stocky legs were no threat, leaving Ryan to focus on its arms which swiped at him in a one-two pattern. As the rhydon swiped at him again, he parried the first strike then slipped under the now-predictable second swipe, ducking toward its back and bringing his staff up for a devastating strike from the rear.

 Too late did Ryan realize his mistake in failing to account for its extra limb as the rhydon brought its tail up and around, slamming it into his ribs as he tried to come around its side. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs in an explosion of pain and sent him to the ground in a crumpled heap, his staff falling from his hands. The rhydon grabbed him by the wrist and hoisted him up off the ground with one hand, dangling him in front of its face.

 "You moron," the kid jeered from behind the pokemon. "Did you really think you could beat my rhydon? I guess you saved your pokemon a beating, but the same can't be said for you. Knock him out, Rhydon."

 The rhydon stared at Ryan for a moment, watching him sway in its grip. It blinked, then looked back at its trainer with an expression of obvious uncertainty.

 "What are you waiting for?" The teen said, pointing angrily at Ryan. "Knock him out, already!"

 The rhydon turned back toward Ryan, still dangling in its powerful grip, then slowly lifted its other arm and balled its thick, meaty hand into a fist.

 With a lightning-quick movement, Ryan grabbed the rhydon's horn with his free hand to steady himself, then aimed a kick at what he hoped was a sensitive spot between its legs. He was rewarded with an impact that was noticeably more yielding than those which landed elsewhere during the fight. The rhydon dropped him, making a hollow, raspy cry. Ryan quickly scrambled for his staff, snatching it up and getting to his feet. He spun around and saw the rhydon was on its knees, pitched forward with one hand on the ground. He swung his staff around in a wide, diagonal overhand swing and smashed it down into the back of the rhydon's head.

 The rhydon collapsed nervelessly to the ground.

 Ryan stood over the rhydon, watching the leech seed tendrils covering it beginning to turn brown and flake off, and prodded it lightly with the end of his staff. Seeing it make no effort to move, Ryan made his way toward its trainer. He glared at the kid and wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. "I'll take that thousand now."

 The kid looked over at his rhydon, still lying on the ground, then back up at Ryan. For a moment, Ryan thought the kid might stiff him for the money. For a moment, he hoped he would try.

 "Take it. You're crazy." The kid thrust the roll of bills at him and hastily retreated.

 "Aren't you forgetting something?" Ryan called after him.

 "That thing?" The kid stopped and cast a contemptuous glance at the defeated pokemon. "It can't even beat a human. Why would I want something as useless as that?"

 The rhydon finally began to stir and made a feeble attempt to get to its feet as its trainer walked away.

 Christina rushed up to Ryan. "Are you mental?!" she exclaimed, looking him over. "I can't believe you did that!"

 "That guy totally had it coming," Ryan said.

 "And where did you get those leech seeds?"

 "I work for a pokemon veterinarian. Where do you think?" He looked over at the rhydon, still on the ground, which was now making a piteous moaning sound. He looked away and sighed. "Hey, do me a favor and see what you can do about that pokemon, would you?"

 Christina nodded. "I can't believe that bastard just abandoned his pokemon like that. What an asshole." She went into the RV and came back out with a washcloth, a large cup of water and a bottle of healing spray and began attending to the rhydon.

 Ryan sat down and folded up his staff. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the places where he'd been hit were really starting to hurt. He touched his cheek and winced. He could already feel the right side of his face beginning to swell.

 Cutter walked over and stood in front of him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. After a moment, Cutter's eyes took on the intense, yet vaguely distant look that marked the use of his psychic sense and his expression softened. He then reached out, putting his hands on Ryan's face. _Hold still,_ he said. _This should ease the pain._

 Ryan felt a strange energy pour into him like waves of liquid heat which slowly collected in hot pools underneath the pain throbbing in his head, burning it and driving it to the surface where it evaporated like steam.

 When Cutter was done, he let his hands fall away, visibly wearied. Ryan touched his face again and felt that the swelling was now almost completely gone. The pain in his side still remained, however.

  _I did the best I could,_ Cutter said. _My healing abilities don't work as well on humans as they do on pokemon._

 "It's a lot better. Thanks," Ryan said. He looked over at Christina kneeling next to the abandoned pokemon lying on the ground. "You know, I'm starting to feel kind of bad about kicking... him?" Ryan looked up at Cutter who nodded, "in the nads. Why don't you take a breather then see if you can help Christina out with that rhydon, okay?"

 Cutter nodded then joined Christina. Between the two of them, they were eventually able to soothe the distressed rhydon and get it back on its feet.

 Its presence proved to be a surprise to Stacy and Jennifer when they returned later that afternoon, though they were even more surprised when Christina explained how it had come to be in their possession. Ryan capped the tale by lifting the front of his shirt and showing them the large bruise that now darkened his side where the rhydon had struck him with its tail.

 After that, Jennifer produced a poké ball and announced she had caught her first pokemon. She activated the poké ball and a small, brown-furred, long-eared creature emerged which Jennifer proclaimed was a buneary. Stacy was quick to remind her that it was still wild and needed to be watched carefully lest it run away. Stacy took her younger sister aside and spent the remainder of the afternoon helping her train it.

 When evening came, Stacy took it upon herself to do the preparations for dinner. Even though the RV had a kitchen, Stacy insisted that the evening meal - a hearty stew - be cooked over and eaten around a proper campfire. When Christina learned that Ryan had never toasted marshmallows over a fire, the girls unanimously declared that said activity would immediately follow dinner.

 Jennifer's new buneary now sat in her lap eating bits of granola from her hand. Stacy sat leaning back against Max, her blaziken, who occasionally reached around to give a little extra cook to any of her marshmallows that he felt weren't sufficiently toasted. The rhydon sat next to Christina, licking hot, melted marshmallow goo off its fingers. Since his trainer hadn't returned for him, she decided to adopt him for herself, naming him "Crash".

 "So I have to ask," Stacy said, looking across the fire at Ryan, "what possessed you to fight that rhydon by yourself."

 "I tried to explain to that kid that I wasn't a trainer and that I don't do the whole sport battling thing but he wouldn't accept it. He was being really obnoxious about it, too. When I couldn't get rid of him, I decided he needed to be knocked down a peg."

 "You could've just as easily done that by having one of your pokemon fight. I bet Cutter could've handled it easily enough."

 "You're probably right," he said, plucking a freshly browned marshmallow off of the stick in his hand, offering a second to Cutter, "but this was my beef. I don't believe in putting others in harm's way just to settle my scores."

 Stacy shook her head. "You're lucky, you know, and I don't just mean about your ribs not being broken. There aren't many vulnerable spots on a rhydon's head."

 "I've had to face uneven fights before," Ryan said as he put more marshmallows on his stick and held them over the fire.

 The rest of the evening passed uneventfully and afterward, the group retired to the RV for the night.

 The next day, Stacy declared that it was time to head for the fabled secret swimming spot and, after packing a few supplies, took everyone trekking down along the river. Along the way, they were treated to a spectacular sight. A giant blue dragon, easily ten feet tall, landed on the opposite shore of the river. Even being relatively inexperienced with pokemon as he was, Ryan had seen this kind of pokemon in enough television shows and pieces of merchandise to know a salamence when he saw one. "That thing's a monster!" he said. "I didn't think they got that big."

 "They usually don't," Stacy said. "This one's special. The Rangers named him Orion, after the mythical hunter. He's the alpha dragon in these parts."

 "Is he dangerous?" Ryan asked.

 "Not as long as you leave him alone. I even heard a story once about how he pulled someone out of the river a couple years ago when there was a flash flood. Still, he doesn't like being approached, so I'd keep clear of him if I were you."

 Ryan saw the great dragon turn its head in their direction. Had it heard them speaking? Ryan thought it unlikely that it could see them at that distance through the trees and foliage, but it was clearly looking directly at them. As Ryan watched it, he swore he could feel its gaze on him, a palpable pressure, even across the distance between them. Unable to look away, he felt his heart beginning to pound in his chest.

 And then, as abruptly as it had appeared, the salamence spread its great crimson wings and launched itself into the air, winging off into the distance.

 "Majestic, isn't he?" Christina said.

 "Yeah," Ryan said, taking a deep breath. "He's something."

 "Come on," Stacy said. "Where we're going is just a bit farther on."

Stacy led them to a U-shaped bend in the river where the water had churned the nearby rock to sand, forming a beach that sloped down from the tall trees which surrounded the shore on three sides. The noonday sun sparkled off the crystal clear water that flowed gently by.

 The girls quickly peeled off their clothing, revealing the bikinis they wore underneath. Ryan saw that, though the family resemblance between them was clearly evident, there were also noticeable differences as well. Stacy's figure was lean and statuesque. Her well-toned, athletic build bespoke the countless hours she undoubtedly spent training alongside her pokemon. Christina was a little shorter than her older sister and the curves of her body were softer, though her figure was still trim and graceful. Her chest was a little fuller than Stacy's as well. Seeing them together like this, Ryan figured that anyone who didn't know that Christina was three years younger than Stacy would be hard-pressed to tell who was the elder.

 Everyone let their pokemon out, including Jennifer and her buneary. Twitch found a large rock to perch upon and playfully taunt Buster from, while Crash lumbered down to the water and immediately began splashing around. In addition to Max and Rush, Stacy released another pokemon - one that closely resembled Cutter in form and color, except that its head lacked a crest and its lower body trailed off into flowing skirts which floated above the ground.

 "Your pokemon looks a lot like Cutter," Ryan remarked.

 "She should, considering she's from the same evolutionary line," Stacy said. "She's a gardevoir. Her name is Gia."

 Cutter stepped forward and bowed formally. _It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance,_ he said. _My name is Cutter._

 Gia inclined her head and smiled. _Likewise,_ she replied, her mental voice gentle and mellifluous.

 After laying out towels on the sandy beach and setting the cooler full of snacks in the shade, the girls dove into the water, inviting Ryan to follow. Although initially hesitant, after some coaxing, he shed his tank top and joined them.

 The center of the river cut deep enough for some respectable underwater exploration and allowed for an impromptu diving contest where Crash launched each of them into the air in turn to see who could make the best aerial display, then finally who could make the most impressive cannonball. Opinions differed as to the results, but all enjoyed the attempts.

 Ryan left the water first, quickly replacing his tank top after drying off. Stacy followed soon after, approaching him with a bottle of sunscreen.

 "Can you get my back?" she asked, stretching out on her towel.

 "Sure," he replied, taking the bottle.

 "You know," she said as he began working the lotion around, "I get why you fought Crash yourself. I work with pokemon a lot and I understand not wanting your partners to get hurt. But you need to learn to trust your pokemon."

 "I do trust them," Ryan said, "but I don't need others to fight my battles for me. I can take care of myself."

 "Too bad Crash's old trainer didn't think like that. He was happy to talk smack and let his pokemon make good on it for him. But you're not like that. You don't see pokemon as things to be exploited. That's one of the things I like about you." She glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled. "But pokemon are much better at battling than humans are and they heal a lot faster and easier. Don't forget my shoulders, please."

 Ryan squeezed a small additional dollop of sunscreen into his hands and continued working it in. "Yeah, well, like I said before, I'm not a pokemon trainer. I'm not into the whole sport battling thing."

 "I know you're not, but that doesn't matter. There are things our pokemon rely on us for - to feed them, to care for them, to look after them when they're sick or hurt - and there are things we rely on them for, too. My mom told me about how you helped the owner of that machine shop take care of his klang problem. Do you think you could've done it without your pokemon?"

 "No," Ryan said, "I suppose not."

 "That's my point. Our pokemon are our partners and that means each of us knows that they can count on the other to handle the things that they themselves can't. Or shouldn't. Oh, and you can give the sunblock back, now. I think you've covered everything two or three times."

 "Sorry," he said, returning the bottle. "The conversation distracted me."

 "Its okay," she said with a smile, "I wasn't complaining."

 When the afternoon grew late, everyone packed up and began the walk back to their campsite at a leisurely pace. On the way, Jennifer stopped the group, pointing off into the trees.

 "Look, it's an abra!" she exclaimed.

 Ryan looked in the direction Jennifer was pointing and saw a small, brown and yellow creature with an upright posture and a vaguely foxlike face.

 "Ooh, be quiet, everyone," Stacy said, "they're very skittish and they'll teleport away if they feel threatened."

 Ryan watched the abra shuffle listlessly around a tree. "Are you sure? It doesn't look very skittish to me. In fact, it looks like someone slipped it some downers."

  _Ryan's right,_ Gia said. _There's something wrong with that abra. Its thoughts are strangely muted. Distant._ She slowly floated nearer to it, stopping several feet away. The abra's eyes remained fixed on the ground in front of it.

 "Is it sick?" Christina asked.

  _I see no outward signs of disease,_ Gia said, _and I don't sense any feelings of physical discomfort from it._

 Stacy approached the abra and knelt down next to it. "Maybe someone tried to capture it and banged its head up in the attempt. I don't see any marks on it, though. I've seen plenty of botched captures and this doesn't look much like one."

 The rest of the group joined Stacy near the abra which finally appeared to notice that it wasn't alone, slowly lifting its head and looking around.

 "It's weirding me out that it hasn't tried to run yet," Stacy observed.

 "Hey, Gia, will this thing freak out if I touch it?" Ryan asked.

 Gia put a hand on its shoulder which elicited no reaction. _I doubt it._

 Ryan began examining the abra which offered neither resistance nor complaint to being handled. "Son of a bitch," Ryan softly exclaimed, "I knew it. Look here." He pointed to a spot on the back of the abra's neck near its spine where he held its fur apart.

 Stacy leaned in and saw the small, thin scar on the abra's skin. "It looks like an old healed-up injury."

 "It's not. Its a surgical scar. You can barely see the suture marks on either side, but they're there. And see how the skin color is striated between the old skin and the newly healed skin? Your mother explained to me that this is what it looks like when a pokemon gets operated on and put in a bio-reactor to heal fast. We saw the same types of scars on the pokemon NuGen was experimenting on."

  _A most astute observation, young one,_ said an unknown psychic voice into Ryan's mind.

 Ryan looked around for the source of the voice. "Did anyone else hear that?" he asked.

 Everyone, including Cutter and Gia responded that they had.

 A tiny pixie-like pokemon floated gently down from the branches of a nearby tree, stopping to hover in midair before the group, its twin bejeweled tails slowly swaying on either side of its body. It nodded its round, yellow head toward the group, regarding them with closed eyes.

 "Hey, Stacy, what is that thing?" Ryan whispered.

 "It's not a thing," Stacy hissed, her eyes widening, "It's Uxie!"

 Ryan watched the hovering pokemon float over to the abra, stopping in front of its face. "Okay, what's an Uxie?"

 "Not _an_ Uxie," she said in a loud whisper. "Uxie is its name and it's one of the Great Pokemon!"

 "Oh. Is that a big deal?"

 "Yes, it's a big deal!" she snapped. "Uxie is the embodiment of knowledge and the one who brought civilization to all mankind!"

  _The ones who listened, at any rate,_ Uxie said, studying the abra. It made a slow circuit in the air around the near-catatonic pokemon, then stopped. _Another one. Most distressing._

 "Wait, you've seen this before?" Ryan asked.

  _Indeed, I have. Each abra carried an identical incision near a particular nerve bundle and was left depleted of several key neurotransmitters._

 Uxie extended a tiny arm toward the abra and the jewels on its tails and head briefly pulsed with light. A moment later, the abra blinked, then looked around in alarm. Uxie lifted a hand and the abra paused, turning its attention to Uxie's floating form.

 "How many abra have you found here like that?" Stacy asked.

  _Only one. But I found two others elsewhere - one in the mountains far to the southeast near the town of Big Beartic and one in the hills near Creekside._

 "So you think NuGen is at it again?" Christina asked.

 "I don't know," Ryan said. "I mean, they'd be stupid to try, considering they're still under a spotlight from last time. And from what I've been told by one of the pokemon who used to work there, NuGen seemed genuinely upset about the whole mess. Either way, whoever's doing this has gotten smart. They're dumping the pokemon so far apart there's no way predict where they'll go so nobody can follow them back to their lab."

 "We need to go to the authorities with this," Christina said.

 "With what?" Ryan replied. "One abra with a surgical scar and the word of a pokemon, great or otherwise, doesn't amount to much."

 "He's right," Stacy said. "We don't know who's taking these pokemon or where."

 "No, but that abra does," Ryan said. "Hey, Uxie, you're good with brain stuff, right?"

 "You can't talk to a Great One like that, Ryan!" Stacy said. She turned to Uxie. "Please forgive my friend. I'm sure he meant no disrespect."

  _None is taken. Besides, I believe I can surmise his stratagem. Yes, I can access the abra's memories and I can show you what it saw._

 "Alright, then. Do it."

  _Prepare yourself._

 "I'm ready," Ryan said. A moment later, he sucked in a breath and threw his arms out as if off balance. "Whoa... okay, I'm seeing myself in another part of the forest. Could be a different forest. Hard to tell. This is really trippy, by the way. Heh, I can see my little abra hands and..." Ryan stopped, his hands going to his side. "I just got shot! It looks a tranq dart. I can't see who fired it. They've gotta be around..."

 Ryan began to sway unsteadily on his feet. Christina rushed forward to steady him as he began to tip over.

 "Thanks," Ryan said. "The abra tried to teleport away, but it couldn't quite pull it off. It felt like the whole world was turning inside-out for a second. It's unconscious now. Whatever they shot it with was pretty potent stuff. Okay, I need to fast-forward to when it wakes up."

 Uxie inclined its head toward the abra again and Ryan felt more images flood his mind.

 "It's in a cage now. It's mind is really foggy and everything looks blurry." He touched the back of his neck. "I think this is after they did whatever they did to it. It looks like it's in a car - the back of a van, maybe an SUV. They've started moving. Damn, I can't make anything out. It's not looking out the window much and everything it sees is all hazy."

 "Can you see any landmarks?" Christina asked. "Anything big enough to be recognizable?"

 "Not yet. Hold on." Ryan closed his eyes, concentrating. "Wait, I think... yeah, that looks like a Burgermeister sign. And that big orange one looks a Hardware Barn sign." Ryan paused. "It's lying down now. All I can see is the top of its cage. Is there anything else until it gets dumped?"

 Uxie slowly shook its head.

 "At least we know the place we're looking for is somewhere near a Burgermeister and a Hardware Barn," Stacy said.

 "That's true," Christina added, "but it's going to take some time to research where that might be."

 "Maybe not," Ryan said, pulling out his cell phone. He held it up to his face and started tapping on the screen. "Hey, Trace, get your butt out here."

 A moment later, a stream of geometric shapes flowed out of his phone and resolved themselves into a polygonal, birdlike form which hovered in the air before him. It looked around and made an inquisitive electronic chirp.

 Stacy's eyes grew wide. "You have a porygon?"

 "Yeah, but all he does is screw around on my phone all day. My internet runs really fast now, though." He paused at the look of surprise on her face. "Why, is this unusual?"

 "Sort of," Stacy said, eyeing the porygon. "Silph only made them in limited production runs and they're very expensive. Most of them were sold to corporations, universities and government agencies."

 "Oh. Cool." Unruffled, he turned to the porygon. "Trace, I need you to find something for me. I'm looking for locations within, lets say, five hundred miles that have a Burgermeister within one block of a Hardware Barn. Can you swing that?"

 Trace trilled and nodded excitedly. It touched its beak to Ryan's phone and its eyes began flashing with snippets of electronic data. After about half a minute, it turned and its eyes flashed again, projecting a floating holographic map of the entire region in the air in front of it. The map zoomed in to the south where a single red dot appeared in the southeastern section of Angel City.

 "That's pretty cool, Trace," Ryan said. "Good job, little guy."

 The porygon bounced again in midair, chirping happily.

 "So this is where they are, then?" Stacy asked.

 "Actually, its somewhere within a few miles of this point. They could be anywhere in the southeast corner of Angel City.

 "Then that's where I'll start looking," Stacy declared.

  _It seems that you have this matter well in hand,_ Uxie said to the group. _I wish you luck in your endeavor._ Uxie nodded to the abra beside it and both of them disappeared with an audible pop.

 * * *

 Doctor Lynd walked up beside Ryan who was leaning over one of the exam tables at the pokemon clinic, wiping it down with disinfectant. Kala followed close behind her holding Alexander in her arms. "Stacy tells me she's going to Angel City to find out who's conducting the pokemon experiments," Doctor Lynd said.

 "My money's on that Doctor Talbot guy who was doing it before, but I guess we won't know until someone has a look," Ryan replied. "I'm sure she'll get to the bottom of it."

 "You're not going along?" Doctor Lynd asked.

 "Stacy can handle herself. Besides, the last time I got involved in this stuff, things got a bit hairy. I don't need that kind of trouble. Anyway, if I leave, who's going to help you with the clinic?"

 "Actually, I've been meaning to tell you that I'm going to be training a new veterinary intern soon. He should be arriving from Creekside in a few days."

 He glanced over at her and saw her troubled expression. "If you're that worried, just tell her she can't go. You are her mother, after all."

 "Yes, that's true, but it isn't as simple as that. She's almost an adult and the apron strings are getting stretched pretty thin. If I tell her not to go, she'll probably just do it anyway. Plus, I've always told my children to take an active role in making the world a better place. It seems hypocritical to forbid them from actually doing it. And the fact that Uxie has gotten involved in this tells me that this is something very important, indeed."

 "Don't you think that might just be a coincidence? I mean, unless this Uxie spends all its time hiding under a rock, someone's going to run into it sooner or later."

 "It's rare enough to even see one of the Great Pokemon, but I can tell you that they never get directly involved in anything without a very good reason."

 "It's not like she's helpless, you know. Haven't you seen her pokemon? They're the real deal. Just two of them handled a wild ursaring like it was nothing. She told me she has six."

"Stacy is an excellent competitive pokemon battler and her pokemon are very strong as well, but the real world isn't like the Pokemon League. These people aren't going to follow the rules or fight fair and there aren't going to be any referees to call time out if someone gets hurt. And this isn't the first time something like this has happened, you know. Every so often, some individual or group gets it into their head that exploiting pokemon is a quick route to power. I've run into people like that before and I can tell you that they'll do whatever it takes to achieve their ambitions. They..." She stopped herself short, as if suddenly aware of the rising pitch and volume of her own voice. She closed her eyes and put a hand to her forehead, letting out a long, trembling breath.

 Ryan's brow furrowed in concern. "You okay, Doc?"

 "I'm sorry, Ryan. I shouldn't be putting this on you. I'm a mother worried about her daughter, but that doesn't give me the right to put someone else in harm's way. I'll have another talk with Stacy."

 He looked into her eyes, normally so warm and light, now weighted with concern and quiet desperation. "I'll go."

 "No, Ryan, I don't want..."

 "You're right about Stacy. She's going whether you want her to or not. It's probably best if she doesn't go alone. Don't worry," he added quietly. "Everything's going to be okay."

 She put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, Ryan."

 "It's no big deal." He held up the spray bottle of disinfectant. "Now, I need to get back to this so I can finish up by dinner."

 Doctor Lynd quietly nodded and left him to his work.

 Just as he finished his cleaning duties, the baby in Kala's arms began crying. Kala sniffed at it then looked at Ryan and made a familiar throaty, rumbling noise.

 Ryan glanced at the wailing infant then looked up at Kala, who held the baby out to him with an expectant look. "Oh, you are just the worst," he muttered.


	4. Angels and Demons

**The Winds of Time**

**Chapter 4**

**Angels and Demons**

 

 

 In the still, quiet hours late at night in the museum, three black-clothed individuals made their way silently through the exhibits. Masks covered their heads, leaving no distinguishing characteristics visible - beyond the fact that one of the three was female - for any observers to identify. The woman stopped them as they came to a hallway, pointing up at a camera whose field of view they were about to enter.

 One of the men with her pulled a slender blade from a wrist sheath and slung it at the camera. The blade made only cosmetic damage in the camera's protective housing, but a moment later, arcs of electricity shot up the thin wire held in the man's gloved hand which trailed from the base of the blade, causing the camera to pop and sizzle, emitting a puff of smoke. With a yank on the wire, the man pulled the blade free and its wire wound back into the spool on his arm as it returned to him. He nodded to the others and they continued on.

 They came at last to a small glass case, unremarkable in comparison to the much larger displays in the room which contained antiquities far older, grander and more valuable than the cracked pink jewel encased before them. A placard stated that the gem had been retrieved by a now-extinct indigenous tribe who claimed that it was found where two of their gods had fought each other. The woman produced a tool from her bag with which she quickly cut and removed a circular section of the display case, then plucked the jewel from the pillow upon which it sat.

 As the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from the far corridor, the woman and the man with the blade placed a hand on the shoulder of the second man who tapped the screen of an electronic device on his forearm. The device beeped softly and the space surrounding them began to twist and distort. When the armed guards arrived a few moments later, the three were gone.

 * * *

 "Buizel, bayleef, chesnaught," Ryan said as unlabelled pictures of pokemon flashed by on the tablet's screen, "snorlax, vulpix... no, wait. Fennekin. The last one was fennekin. Vulpix have more tails."

 "Very good," Christina said, setting the tablet down on the kitchen table. "Keep this up and you'll know more pokemon than Stacy."

 "Doctor Lynd keeps saying that I should learn more about pokemon if I'm going to keep working in a pokemon clinic. Plus there's the other stuff we're going to be doing." The pachirisu perched on his shoulder darted up onto his head, then down to his other shoulder. "And is Twitch always like this?" he added.

 "She just likes you," Christina said with a smile.

 "Yeah, well, I can feel an electrical tingle whenever she gets near my face. She's not going to zap me, is she?"

 "No, she's not going to zap you. Tingly means she's happy. Believe me, you'll know when she's not."

 "Great." He watched the pachirisu scamper down his arm, across the table and onto Christina's shoulder. "Speaking of your pokemon, how's, um..." Ryan shifted in his chair and glanced away, "how's Crash doing?"

 "He's fine," she replied, her brow knitting at his sudden discomfiture. "Why do you ask?"

 "The way everything went down, I thought he might be having a hard time of things."

 "First off, he's in very good health. Mom says his last trainer didn't pay enough attention to his dietary needs, but now that he's getting a proper diet, he's stronger and healthier than ever."

 "Oh. That's good. So there wasn't any lasting damage from the fight? It got pretty nasty at the end."

 "You mean when you booted him in the bits and pieces? Don't worry. I checked him out. Actually, all that stuff is tucked safely away inside, anyway. It only hurt him because the orifice is lined with sensitive membranous tissues. It's like getting punched really hard in the nose."

 "You checked him out?"

 "My mom walked me through it. After she heard he got hit there hard enough to lay him out, she thought it would be a good idea to take a look. I'm thinking of becoming a pokemon vet like my mom and she told me that they have to deal with a lot worse stuff than handling a pokemon's junk. In fact, right now she's out back taking care of a tauros with an impacted colon. She's has these gloves that go all the way to her shoulder and..."

 "Okay, okay, I get it. So he's doing okay then? You know, adjusting?"

 Christina reached over and touched him on the arm. "He's very happy in his new home. He loves playing with Jennifer, which is good since Kala gives most of her attention to Alexander these days. Speaking of which, it wouldn't hurt for you to put in more time with your own pokemon. It seems like Jennifer spends more time with Buster than you do."

 "I'll keep that in mind," he said. His attention turned to the enormous bulk of Kala, Doctor Lynd's kangaskhan edging through the kitchen door with Alexander in her arms. "Please tell me he doesn't need another diaper change."

 Christina rose and took the baby from Kala. She nuzzled his face with her nose, eliciting a giggle from her baby brother. "Do you really dislike it that much?"

 "Do you not? I've lost count of how many times your mother or nanny-zilla here has had me do their dirty work. The only upshot is that I've gotten pretty fast at it."

 "Maybe that was the point," Christina said, her eyebrows raised slightly for emphasis. "But if you want, I can do diaper duty for you."

 Ryan blinked in surprise. "Really?"

 "Sure. I used to change Jennifer's diapers all the time, so I'm used to it. But I want something in return."

 "What's that?" Ryan asked warily.

 "I want you to take me out for pizza - stuffed crust, the works. And not just once, either. As long as I'm wrist-deep in doo-doo, you're feeding me."

 "How often are we talking, exactly?"

 "Oh, a couple times a week should do. It doesn't have to be pizza every time, though. Nothing wrong with mixing things up now and then." She paused, noting the hesitant look on his face. "You don't have to if you don't want to, though. In fact, I probably shouldn't even be offering. From what I understand, my mom considers it part of the job she's paying you for to provide whatever assistance she needs when she's here at the clinic, including helping her with Alexander."

 As if on cue, Alexander began crying in an all-too-familiar tone. Christina peeked inside his diaper and smiled innocently at Ryan.

 "Deal," he said.

 The next morning, Ryan and Cutter were up and waiting when Stacy drove up to the clinic in her dark blue two-door compact along with her sister Christina. Sitting in the back was Stacy's gardevoir, Gia.

 The two sisters got out of the car and greeted Ryan. "I'll hold down the fort while you two are gone," Christina said. "Good luck in Angel City and come back safe," She gave her sister a hug and turned to Ryan. "Both of you."

 "Will do," Ryan replied. He waited until Cutter climbed into the back, then sat in the front passenger seat, closing the door behind him.

 Christina waved as Stacy started the car. "And when you get back," she called, "we can start with a extra-large Hawaiian style and a pitcher of soda."

 Stacy looked at Ryan who muttered, "Don't ask," as they drove away.

 As they drove along the freeway, the post morning rush hour traffic was still fairly heavy, but not so much that it slowed their travel. Ryan stared out at the scenery rushing by while Stacy hummed along to a bouncy pop tune playing on the radio. Cutter and Gia, meanwhile, spent the time engaged in silent mental conversation.

 "So, Cutter," Stacy said as the radio launched into a commercial, "You said you worked with the people at NuGen. What kind of stuff did you do?"

  _My primary role was as a member of the research and development team that created the second generation Technical Machines._

 "You were? That is unbelievably awesome!"

 "Why exactly is that 'unbelievably awesome'?" Ryan asked.

 Stacy shot him an incredulous look. "Are you serious? The first generation TMs burned out after only one use. Everyone hated that, especially considering how expensive they were. The second gen TMs changed all that. So," she continued, "what was your job? Did you test them or something?"

  _Not exactly. In order to develop a stable psi induction matrix that could withstand multiple uses, NuGen determined that they would need the assistance of psychic pokemon with particular abilities. To that end, they instituted a special breeding program from which I was selected on the basis of mental acuity and retention. As part of the development process, I was required to memorize the entirety of their TM library. I even know techniques that I myself lack the faculties to execute, though I can pass the knowledge on to others. In fact, I've recently taught Buster a few new tricks._

 "Really?" Ryan said, "How come I didn't know about this?"

 Cutter glanced out of the window. _Your attention is usually elsewhere_.

 "We'll be coming up on Angel City soon," Stacy said. "Where should we start looking?"

 "I'd like to start by talking with a friend of mine," Ryan said. "I'll tell you where to turn off."

 After exiting the freeway a short while later, they wound their way through the city, finally turning onto a street lined with old palm trees. The houses were painted in hues of yellows and whites, some faded to the point where it was impossible to tell which of the two colors they originally were. The house they stopped in front of had a patchy front lawn enclosed by a short chain link fence and a concrete driveway whose cracked surface was speckled with oil stains. Ryan led them to the front of the house and knocked on the door.

 The door was answered by a man with Hispanic features that looked to be about Ryan's age, wearing a black tank top and shorts. His easy smile broadened when he saw Ryan. "Hey, killer! Long time, no see," he said.

 "Dammit, Miguel," Ryan said with a sigh, "I wish you'd stop calling me that."

 Miguel greeted him with a quick fist-bump then said, "So who's your friend?"

 "Miguel, this is Stacy. Stacy, this is Miguel. We went to school together."

 Stacy gave Ryan playful look. "Killer, huh?"

 "He used to get bullied a lot," Miguel said, "then he learned how to fight and cleaned all their clocks. It was awesome."

 "Actually, Miguel," Ryan said, changing the subject, "I was hoping to talk to you about something else. We ran across some people who are experimenting on pokemon and we're trying to track them down. We think they're in southeast Angel City but we don't know exactly where, Have you heard of anybody doing weird stuff with pokemon or people finding pokemon all zonked out or acting weird?"

 "Have I heard of people doing weird stuff with pokemon?" Miguel laughed. "Come on man, that happens every day around here."

 Stacy said, "What about unusual pokemon? Have there been any types turning up that aren't common for this area?"

 "Not around here." Miguel paused in thought, then said, "But I did hear someone talking not too long ago about how one of the arenas had some hot new pokemon on the card."

 "Arenas?" Stacy asked.

 "Yeah," Ryan said, "Underground pit fighting arenas. Don't tell me you've never heard of those?"

 "Of course I've heard of them. I just didn't know there were any in Angel City."

 Miguel chuckled. "The Coliseum isn't the only place they have pokemon battles in Angel City."

 "So, where's this arena you're talking about?" Ryan asked.

 "Don't know," Miguel replied. "I try to stay away from that scene now. It should be pretty easy to find if you ask around, though."

 "Okay. Thanks for the info, then," Ryan said. "I wish I could stay, but we're kind of in the middle of something."

 "Yeah, I'll bet you are," Miguel said, smiling. "I'll catch you later, then. Don't be a stranger, okay."

 Stacy and Ryan took to the streets once again, Ryan directing them downtown.

 "So," Stacy said as they drove down through the city, "we find this pit fighting arena and then what?"

 "We take a look and see if their new pokemon have anything do with the people we're looking for," Ryan said. "First, though, we need to find it. Pull in here," he said, indicating a fast food restaurant. "I'm starving and we can leave the car parked here afterward while we pound the pavement.

 They stopped and ate a quick meal, then went on foot. At Ryan's urging, both Gia and Cutter went back into their poké balls in order to not draw undue attention. As they made their way through the streets, Stacy watched as Ryan began making inquiries seemingly haphazardly, focusing on certain businesses and people while avoiding others.

 As the afternoon wore on, Stacy noticed the areas they were traveling through showed increasing amounts of urban decay - shabby buildings with broken or boarded-up windows, trash strewn on the sidewalks and alleys increasingly crowded with people in makeshift dwellings.

 Amid the squalor, Stacy noticed a neon sign in an unassuming storefront advertising an unexpected luxury: "Pokemon massage."

 "I guess no matter where you are, people still need to take care of their pokemon," Stacy said, pointing out the sign.

 "It's not what you think," Ryan said. "People don't take their pokemon there to relax. People go there to have pokemon help them relax."

 "You know, I've heard of a place like that near the beach." Stacy said. "They have specially trained monferno that give deep-heat massages. It's really expensive, but I hear the place has gotten lots of good reviews."

 "Well, the pokemon in there definitely use their hands, but not for that."

 Stacy blinked, then her face reddened as puzzlement gave way to comprehension. "Are you serious?"

 "You mean you've never heard of that?"

 "Yes, I've heard of it. I do use the internet, you know. I just thought..."

 "...that it happened somewhere else?" Ryan interjected. "You wanted to find out what was going on - to get to the bottom of things? Well, that's where we are. The bottom. A lot of people here are dirt poor, desperate or both. When you wake up every morning knowing that the best you can hope for is to scrape by for one more day, knowing that tomorrow will be no better, you'll take any kind of escape you can get. In your world, pokemon are friends, athletes, co-workers and companions. Here, they're bodyguards, enforcers, drug mules and... other things. It's a different world from the one you know."

 "It sounds like you know a lot about this city," she said quietly

 Ryan shrugged. "I knew enough to leave as soon as I could."

 Ryan abruptly put his arm out, stopping her. She looked at him, confused, and saw that his eyes were locked on a pokemon that appeared from an alley ahead. In the waning light, she thought it was an umbreon, but looking closer, she saw it was something different. Its rough, dirty fur was purple with dark green accents. The tips of sharp fangs jutted visibly down from its mouth. As it glanced in their direction, its eyes - yellow green with thin, vertical slit pupils - flashed briefly with reflected light. Ryan kept his eyes on it until it passed.

 "I've never see a pokemon like that before," Stacy said once it was gone.

 "It was a toxeon," Ryan said. "It's what happens to eevee that live around the smog, trash, pollution and industrial waste you find in big cities like this one. They're nasty bastards, especially when they're feral. Even raticate won't go near them. And yes, they're extremely poisonous. Fortunately, you only see them in the really nasty parts of town." He smiled grimly. "That's probably why you've never seen one."

 Finally, after talking with a few more people, Ryan was able to find the information they were looking for, confirming it with others so as to ensure that they'd be looking in the right place.

 They made their way back to Stacy's car and drove to the part of the industrial district where they were told the arena was. On Ryan's advice, they parked several blocks away. Stacy watched Ryan take his folding staff out of the car, but to her surprise, he put it in the trunk instead of slinging it over his shoulder.

 "First off," he said, "leave your poké ball belt in the car - it screams 'pro trainer'. The Pokemon League tries to shut these places down whenever they can, so if they think you're with the League, things will get real unfriendly for us real fast. Second, If you're going to bring any of your poké balls, keep them shrunk down and out of sight. People don't usually bring pokemon to an arena unless they're going to fight them." He noticed the look of obvious distaste on her face. "You don't have to come if you don't want to. I can do this part myself."

 "No," she said, "I didn't come all this way to wait in the car."

 Twilight drew over the city in a blanket of purple and blue as they made their way down the city streets. Overhead, the street lights dotted the gloom with their harsh, orange light. Finally, they came to a row of old warehouses sitting near some railroad tracks. The one they approached was surrounded by an asphalt lot whose uneven surface was broken by patches of weeds. Ryan led them around to the back, where the sounds of human activity could be heard from inside. He knocked on the door which was answered by a large, bald man who opened it only enough to stare silently at the two of them. Ryan held out a pair of bills to the bald man who took them then opened the door the rest of the way.

 The interior was dimly lit by portable floodlights powered by a generator which chugged near some windows painted an opaque brown. The smell of tobacco smoke, alcohol and other, more acrid scents wafted from the spectators gathered inside. In the center of the warehouse, inside a cubical enclosure made up of chain-link fencing welded together, two pokemon were locked in brutal combat. The spectators in the makeshift bleachers surrounding the ring loudly cheered or cursed at the combatants before them while others watched near the enclosure behind a waist-high barricade of dented diamond plate steel.

 "I want to get a closer look at these pokemon," Ryan said, leading them toward the ringside area.

 "I'm already seeing more than I want to," Stacy replied.

 "Hey! Keep that shit quiet," Ryan whispered harshly. "Remember what I told you about this place. These people are not fucking around." Ryan paused to let his words sink in then continued, his tone softening, "You did say you wanted to come, after all."

 They made their way through the ringside crowd and watched as the two pokemon - a charmeleon and a quilava, both gaunt and wild-eyed - tore at each other with ferocious abandon. After a vicious exchange of claws and teeth which left bloody gashes on both pokemon, the charmeleon pulled back and breathed an intense gout of fire at the quilava, which sent the spectators on that side ducking behind the metal barricade but left the quilava only slightly singed.

 "They're having two fire pokemon fight each other?" Stacy said softly. " This battle could drag on forever!"

 "I think that's the point," Ryan replied.

 And indeed, the battle did drag on as each of the pokemon took turns blasting each other with fire, to the delight of the crowd, but to little effect upon each other. Finally, the charmeleon, its orange body slashed red with its own blood and its tail flame guttering low, lunged forward and tackled the quilava to the ground, ripping into it with teeth and claws until a round-faced man near the cage recalled both of the pokemon into poké balls in his hands.

 "Oh, it looks like the charmeleon wins this one!" an amplified voice echoed down from the catwalk above. Ryan looked up and saw a young man with a goatee and a black bandanna on his head holding a bullhorn. "If you were rooting for the quilava, don't worry. He'll get his shot at revenge in next week's rematch."

 Stacy leaned in close to Ryan. "So what do you think? Is this what we're looking for?"

 "Maybe," Ryan replied in a low voice. "Did you see how skinny those pokemon were? Pit fighters usually only starve their pokemon like that when they're new and haven't learned to be vicious. Or it could be that they just wanted an extra bloody fight. They definitely got that."

 "And now," the man with the bullhorn called out, "get ready for the main event! First, the champion. He's the undisputed master of the pit, the purple poison punisher. It's... King!

 The round-faced man at ringside stuck a poké ball through a small hole in the fencing of the fighting ring and a spiky, purple pokemon that looked like a shorter version of Christina's rhydon Crash emerged: a nidoking. It twitched its large, rounded ears at the shouts of the crowd and bellowed back in response, a sound halfway between a roar and a screech that made the spectators cheer all the louder.

 "And now the challenger," the man on the catwalk continued. "Fast as lightning and zaps like it, too. It's electrike!"

 A small, green canine-like pokemon materialized in the ring. Its ears, along with the long fur on its head swept backward, giving it a streamlined look but it stood less than half the nidoking's height. Small bruises dotted its gaunt frame.

 "But wait!" the man on the catwalk called. "One scrawny electrike wouldn't be much challenge to King. So he's going to fight three!"

 The round-faced man released two more electrike then shouted, "King, attack!"

 The nidoking rushed toward the first electrike and kicked it squarely in the side, sending it flying into the side of the ring. It bounced off of the fencing and tumbled to the ground.

 From behind, one of the other two electrike shot a burst of electricity at the nidoking. The arcing electrical attack flashed brightly enough to force the spectators nearest the ring to shield their eyes, but when it subsided, it left no sign of injury on the nidoking whatsoever.

The third electrike dashed in and began harrying the nidoking with quick bites at the larger, slower opponent. The nidoking bellowed in frustration as its legs were quickly becoming bloodied from the rapid-fire assault, its own counterattacks too slow too catch the nimble electrike. As the electrike dashed in for yet another blistering attack, the nidoking lashed out with its thick, heavy tail in a sweeping arc around it. The electrike easily jumped over the lashing tail but the canny nidoking lowered its head directly into the path of the electrike's leap, goring it with the horn in its forehead and tossing it aside with a flick of its head.

 The electrike landed on its feet, but tilted unsteadily, favoring the side that now carried a puncture wound from which dribbled a thick, purple liquid. The nidoking advanced on its injured opponent, slashing at it with its claws. The electrike dodged the attacks but its movements quickly grew more and more sluggish until, barely able to keep its feet, it was struck by a swipe of the nidoking's powerful tail which sent it tumbling. When it came to rest in a corner of the ring, it didn't get up.

 The nidoking turned its attention to the final electrike which seemed daunted by the fact that its previous electrical attack had no effect. It backed away as the nidoking advanced on it, sending jolt after jolt of electrical power which danced harmlessly around the nidoking's body. Finally, backed into a corner, the electrike looked helplessly up at its foe who reached down and snatched it up into its hands. The nidoking held the cowering green pokemon before its face and shrieked, eliciting cheers from the crowd.

 The shouts from the spectators at ringside began to synchronize into a chant, "Kill, kill, kill!" that soon was echoed from those in the bleachers. The nidoking, in response to the crowd, held the electrike up higher and shook it, drawing even louder chants from the spectators. Finally, the nidoking gripped the squirming electrike by the throat and with a savage pull, ripped its throat out, flinging spatters of blood into the crowd.

 The nidoking dropped the electrike's lifeless body and screeched again, bringing even louder cheers from the crowd.

 "The winner and still champion," the man with the bullhorn called out, "is King!"

 Ryan looked over at Stacy who stared ashen-faced at the motionless bodies of the three electrike lying on the floor of the ring, the third one surrounded by an expanding pool of blood. "I think we've seen enough," he said. "Let's go." He gently led her out of the warehouse and down the adjoining alley.

Ryan looked over at Stacy, still pale, who sat with her arms clasped to her middle, tears lining her eyes. "You okay?" he asked.

 "Yeah. I just..." Stacy voice faltered as she wiped her eyes dry. "I've never seen a pokemon killed like that before. Ripped apart."

 "It happens more often than you think," Ryan said quietly. "At least it makes our job easier. They're going to..." Ryan paused, considering his words, "...discard the remains of the ones that died. When they do, we can examine them to see if they have the same surgical marks."

 Stacy nodded silently in response.

 "You sit tight while I keep an eye out, then." He glanced at the small, round bulges of the poké balls in her pockets. "You have Max with you, right? Can I borrow him for a sec?"

 She pulled out a poké ball and handed it to him. He walked a short distance away and activated it, causing Stacy's blaziken to materialize before him.

 "Damn, I never get used to how big you are," Ryan said as Max looked down questioningly at him. Ryan leaned in and said in a low voice, "I need you to keep an eye on Stacy for a while, okay? She's kind of having a rough time of things right now, you understand?"

 The blaziken glanced over at Stacy who sat on the concrete steps, staring at the ground. He nodded at Ryan then went and sat down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and murmuring a soft bass note of concern, nudging her cheek with his beak. Stacy looked up at him and smiled, leaning into his side.

 Ryan left the two of them and found a spot from which to inconspicuously keep watch on the arena warehouse. A short while later, Ryan returned, Cutter once again at his side, and signalled for them to follow, leading them to a dumpster behind another nearby warehouse. He poked at several of the bags on top, then hoisted one out and onto the ground.

 He cut open the dark green plastic bag with his multi-tool, revealing the dead body of an electrike, its green fur dark and matted with its own dried blood. "Just one, by the looks of it. I was sure the one that got poisoned was a goner." While Stacy watched, he carefully examined the body, trying to avoid getting too much blood on his hands. "Yeah, this is it," he said, holding the fur apart on the back of its neck. "Same scars."

 "We're taking these bastards down."

 Ryan nodded. "Alright. They should still be inside, tallying the money they made. We can follow one of them when they leave. Catch him off guard away from..."

 "No," she interrupted. "I mean all of them. Here. Now."

 Ryan blinked in surprise. "What, you mean rush the place? I counted at least five guys in there who looked like they weren't spectators and I guarantee that at least some of them have guns."

 "Then we send our steel pokemon in first. The others can run cleanup behind them."

 "This isn't a game, Stacy. If we bust in there, those guys are going to try to kill us."

 "If we do it your way, we'll get our information but they'll keep on doing what they do. If we just call the cops, we lose our chance to question them." She fastened her deep green eyes on him. "I'm doing this with or without you."

 "Why are you being like this?"

 "Because what they're doing," she said through gritted teeth, "it's wrong and its evil and those pokemon suffer and die because of it." She let out a long breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, the heat in them was gone. "My pokemon are strong and powerful. But if I can't use that power to stop something terrible when it happens right in front of me, then what good is it? What good am I?"

 Silence hung between them, unbroken but for a gentle gust of the evening wind that made Ryan cross his arms against the chill. Finally, he let out a sigh, his expression serious. "Are your pokemon going to be willing to hurt people? Maybe even kill? Because if we do this, there's no holding back. Not for any of us. You sure you're up for that?"

 Stacy took a deep breath and nodded. "I'll talk to my pokemon - make sure they understand what's going to happen."

 "Okay. You better bring out your A-team for this one, then."

 Stacy pulled out three more poké balls. Gia, her gardevoir and Rush, her luxray joined Max who already stood by her. The third pokemon she released had the appearance of a giant penguin, dark blue and white in color, which stood almost equal in height to her. Its golden beak swept back and up into a barbed, three-pronged crest - a golden trident - which crowned its head. Its large flipper-wings were edged in gleaming metal and sported clawed fingers on their inner surface toward the ends. Ryan was at once taken buy the aura of dignity and unmistakable dangerousness that this pokemon - an empoleon - exuded by its mere presence.

 "This is Freya," Stacy said. "As you can see, she's a steel-type. She's not my fastest pokemon, but she's as tough as they come." She turned to her gardevoir. "Gia, we're going to be doing something very important and very dangerous. I need Max, Rush and Freya to understand what I'm about to tell you, okay?"

 Ryan watched Stacy gather her pokemon around the bag containing the body of the electrike and begin speaking to them in a low voice. He turned and released Buster from his poké ball, who looked up at him with crystal-blue eyes. The metalleon sniffed at the air, then looked toward where the electrike lay. Ryan knelt and explained what they had seen and what they were planning to do, pausing for Cutter to psychically translate the more complex concepts for Buster. After he finished, he asked "Are you and Buster going to be okay with what we have in mind? You don't have to do it if you don't want to - we can probably pull it off with just Stacy's pokemon - but we could really use your guys' help."

 Ryan watched Cutter turn his focus toward Buster in another psychic exchange. _We understand what you are asking of us and the dangers involved_ , Cutter said to Ryan, _and we're ready to fight_.

 "Ryan," Stacy called, "we're ready."

 Ringed by their pokemon, Ryan and Stacy made their way through the night-darkened alleyways back to the arena's warehouse.

 "Don't do anything stupid," Ryan said to Stacy as they approached. "When the shooting starts, keep behind cover. Let your pokemon do the fighting."

 Stacy smiled. "I seem to remember someone telling you the same thing not too long ago."

 "I'm serious," Ryan said. "I don't want to be the one to tell your mother you got shot. Now, are you ready?"

 Stacy nodded and said to Gia. "Stay hidden out here. If things go bad, run and get help, okay?"

Gia inclined her head and retreated into the shadows.

 Stacy and Ryan walked up to a door in the rear of the warehouse. Stacy quietly tried the door and found it locked. She turned to her empoleon. "Okay, Freya. Do just like I told you."

 Freya extended a flipper and a blue-white beam shot from it at the metal door, frost slowly spreading from the point of contact. The empoleon held the beam until the doorknob was surrounded by a giant, white, frozen circle that covered nearly half the door. Releasing the beam, she lunged forward, driving her steel-clad flipper through the ice. The supercooled metal beneath shattered, falling to the ground in tinkling chunks.

 Freya shouldered through the ruined door which now swung easily inward. Buster, his body now armored in metal, followed close on her heels.

 Astonished voices rose in alarm from inside, followed by staccato pops of gunfire. Peeking in through the doorway, Ryan saw Buster charging toward the large, bald doorman who held a large handgun in both hands, frantically firing. Sparks flashed where bullets struck Buster's metallic coat as he leapt at the burly man, his jaws closing around the man's arm. He screamed in pain, the gun falling from his hands as Buster dragged him to the ground.

 Freya, meanwhile, was advancing on a second gunman with one giant flipper raised like a shield before her. Then, with a single swift movement, she dropped her shielding flipper and pointed the other flipper at her attacker, shooting an icy beam from its tip. The man dropped to his knees, holding his arm, now rimed with frost, where the beam struck him. Another beam struck the gun which now lay on the floor, dropped from ice-numb fingers, encasing it in ice.

 A third man flung a trio of poké balls, from which emerged two small, dark, shaggy canine pokemon and a similar, larger one - two poochyena and a mightyena. "Attack!" he yelled, and the three pokemon rushed into the fray. From the catwalk above, Ryan saw the young man with the goatee and bandanna shooting down at Freya with his own handgun.

 "Cutter, get in there and take care of the one Buster's fighting," Ryan said, "then tell him to go after the guy up top. Stacy, the other pokemon are yours."

 "Come on guys," Stacy said to her pokemon, "let's help Freya out."

 Max and Rush ran inside, Stacy ducking in behind them. Ryan and Cutter dashed in as well, Ryan ducking behind the bleachers for cover while Cutter ran toward where Buster had the doorman pinned to the ground.

 With a single punch to the man's face, Cutter stilled the doorman's struggles. He then sent Buster running up the stairs that led to the catwalk.

 The man with the goatee and bandanna stopped shooting long enough to throw a poké ball, from which emerged the nidoking that had fought earlier. Conspicuously absent, Ryan noted, were any signs of its previous injuries. The local champion, apparently, rated better care than the others. His trainer, however, was now heading for a staircase on the opposite end of the catwalk toward the front of the building.

 On the floor below, Ryan picked up the gun dropped by the doorman as one of the poochyena split off from its group and headed toward where he and Cutter stood. Cutter engaged charcoal-colored canine, but despite his superior size and strength, Cutter's blades seemed to be having no effect. Above, Buster was also struggling with his opponent as the powerful nidoking's blows rang loudly against his metallic coat.

 "Ryan, switch your pokemon!" Stacy called from across the room. "That nidoking is weak to Cutter's attacks."

 "Buster, come down and take care of this one!" Ryan shouted. "Cutter, the big guy's yours."

 Cutter nodded, waiting for Buster to bound down the stairs and join the fight on the floor before running up to meet the nidoking. Ryan, meanwhile bolted toward the opposite end of the warehouse, running past the battle between Stacy's pokemon and the remaining poochyena and mightyena - or, more accurately, the end of it: The poochyena already lay at Freya's webbed feet while the mightyena, hemmed in by Rush's electrical barrage, was being brutally battered by Max's fists.

 The bandanna man raced down the far stairs whose end lay near the front door. His round-faced companion, close behind, almost bowled him over as he abruptly stopped mere feet from the bottom of the stairs, Ryan barring their way with the doorman's gun pointed at them. They turned toward the sound of a screeching cry that echoed from the other side of the warehouse as a slash from Cutter's blades sent the nidoking tumbling down the stairs, coming to rest on the floor mewling in pain next to the second defeated poochyena.

 "Gentlemen, I think we need to talk," Ryan said. He pointed toward an empty area in the middle of the warehouse. "Move."

 The five men sat on the floor, ringed by Ryan's and Stacy's pokemon. The beaten pokemon had been returned to their poké balls which sat on a table, well out of reach.

 "Who the hell are you people?" the man with the bandanna demanded. "What's your beef with us?"

 Ryan waved the gun in his hand dismissively. "Personally, I don't care what you people do here, but my friend here is with the League and she has a real problem with what you're doing to your pokemon. Now, I need to know where you've been getting your new pokemon from - specifically, those electrike."

 "Why should I tell you anything?" the man scoffed. "If she's League, you're just going to turn us in anyway."

 "That's true," Ryan said, "but if you don't cooperate, I'm going to have Super Chicken here," he pointed at Max, "drag you up to the catwalk and give you a flying lesson. I guess we won't be calling the cops at that point, but that'll be the least of your worries."

 Max, getting into the spirit of things, grabbed the man by the back of his shirt and pulled him up a few inches.

 "Whoa, whoa, wait! Look, I got them from this creepy red haired woman, okay? She came here saying she had unusual pokemon she wanted to get rid of and asked if I was looking to buy."

 "Who is she?" Ryan pressed. "Where can I find her?"

 "I don't know. I don't even talk to her anymore. Whenever she wants to sell, she has one of her boys call me and arrange a meet."

 "So you're telling me some woman just conveniently shows up one day offering to sell you exotic pokemon and you don't know who she is where to find her? Bullshit." He turned to Max. "Take him up to the catwalk. Maybe one of his buddies will be more cooperative."

 "It's the truth, I swear!" the man exclaimed as Max began dragging toward the stairs. "Lots of people know about our club. People come to us all the time to sell us pokemon. We don't ask a lot questions, okay?"

 Ryan looked at Cutter. "Is he telling the truth?"

 Cutter stared at the man for a moment. _I believe so_.

 Ryan paused in thought, then asked, "When was the last time they called you? Day and time."

 "Two days ago. About noon."

 "Put your phone on the ground. Slowly."

 "My phone? Why?"

 "Just do it."

 The man carefully pulled his phone from his pocket and set it down on the ground.

 Ryan took out his own phone and held it out. "Tra-a-ace," he said in a singsong voice, "I've got something interesting for you to do."

 Colorful shapes rose from the surface of Ryan's phone and assembled themselves into the form of a porygon. It hovered up and trilled inquisitively at Ryan.

 "I've got a challenge for you, Trace. You up for it?"

 Trace bobbed energetically in the air and trilled again.

 "I need you to find out who called that phone two days ago at around noon and where to find them. Can you do that?"

 Trace shifted the polygons around his eyes in the semblance of a furrowing brow, then nodded.

 "Good. Come back to my phone when you're done. Have fun."

 Trace swooped down and touched the man's phone, dissolving into it.

 "Looks like we're done," Ryan said to Stacy. "You can call your friends, now."

 A short time later, Ryan and Stacy stood outside, watching people carrying pokemon out of the warehouse and loading them into vans emblazoned with the stylized poké ball symbol of the Pokemon League. The men who ran the pit fighting arena were being led away by police officers to waiting patrol cars.

 "I know the people who run the rescue shelter where they're taking those pokemon," Stacy said. They'll take good care of them." She held up one of her own poké balls. "Now we need to take care of ours."

 * * *

 Ryan and Stacy sat in the waiting room of the pokemon center which echoed with the sounds of some small children fussing at the feet of their mother and a wall-mounted television's tinny speakers.

 "All things considered," Stacy said, "I think things went fairly well. Our pokemon pulled off a tough job and none of them, or us, got seriously hurt. You're very lucky to have someone like Cutter who can talk to you and your pokemon," she added. "This would've been hard to pull off otherwise."

 "Yeah, he's pretty cool," Ryan said, "but psychic pokemon aren't all that rare, you know."

 Stacy frowned. "You don't think that all psychic pokemon can communicate like Cutter does do you?"

 "Well, yeah. I mean, Gia does and she's psychic. Besides, if they can read your mind, can't they tell what you mean?"

 "To a point," Stacy said. "Psychic pokemon can pick up on basic feelings and actions easily enough. For example, they can tell if a person is angry or sad or if they're about to attack. They can send their own thoughts, too, but they usually only come across as broken images and raw feelings. A pokemon has to become intimately familiar with the human mind and learn how we think in order to communicate like we do. I spent a long time working with Gia before she was able to talk like she does."

 "I guess the NuGen people must've taught him, then. Makes sense, considering what they had him doing."

 "Yeah. I guess so." Stacy paused, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "Back at the warehouse," she said, her voice dropping, "did you really mean what you said? About not caring about what those people were doing?"

 "I don't like it, if that's what you're asking," Ryan replied, "but aside from getting the info we wanted, what we did won't make a bit of difference." He saw the dubious expression on her face and continued, "Sure, we busted those guys but there are probably at least half a dozen other pit fighting rings in here in Angel City alone. And even if you busted all of them, sooner or later someone else will just take their place. In the grand scheme of things, what we did meant nothing."

 "We may not be able to change the world," Stacy said, "but we changed this part of it. And right now, because of us, there are a few pokemon who aren't being beaten and starved and forced to fight to a miserable death. What we did meant something to them."

 Ryan looked away, staring off at the far end of the waiting room, his expression somber. "Lucky them."

 Stacy blinked, then just as she was about to speak, a woman wearing green scrubs walked up to them.

 "Ms. Lynd, Mr. Meadows, your pokemon are ready to go home."

 * * *

 Ryan walked up to the front porch of the clinic after having been dropped off and found a sticky note on the front door which read, "I left some minestrone soup for you in the fridge in case you didn't eat a proper dinner, which, knowing you, you probably didn't. - Dr. Lynd."

 Once inside, Ryan let Cutter and Buster out of their poké balls. While they went upstairs, he went to the refrigerator and poured himself a bowl of the soup Doctor Lynd left, heating it up in the microwave. After he finished, he headed to his room where his pokemon were already settled in for the night.

 He took a quick shower and after he finished, found his phone chiming with an incoming text. He clicked it on and read the message which was sent by Christina.

 "I hear you guys found a lead. Stacy told me some of what happened, but I can tell there's a lot she left out. If you want to talk, I'm all ears."

 Ryan put the phone down and lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling for awhile. Then he picked up his phone again, intending to turn it off. He paused a moment, holding it in his hand.

 Then he turned it on and began to type.


	5. Prometheus

**The Winds of Time**

**Chapter 5**

**Prometheus**

 

  

Inside a darkened room, a man and a woman stood behind a two way mirror watching people file into the room beyond. The man stood stiffly in a clean white lab coat, his short, dark hair and immaculately trimmed beard flecked with iron gray. The woman stood in sharp contrast, her willowy form held at ease as she watched the procession. Her delicate features, topped with a tumble of vivid red hair, lent her an unearthly air muted slightly into the mundane by the thin-framed glasses she wore.

 "Miss Crane, are you sure it's a good idea recruiting the homeless?" the man asked, stroking his beard. "This group looks particularly - bedraggled."

 "One shouldn't judge by appearances, Gregory. I've found that they make ideal employees. We provide them room, board and a generous salary. In return they provide exceptionally dedicated service. They tend to have few external ties which reduces the likelihood of them compromising our work and many of them are quite skilled. We've even picked some ex-military this way."

 "I would prefer you to call me Doctor Talbot, if you don't mind."

 She peered at him with an arched eyebrow. "You're an interesting person to work with but your slavish devotion to formality and titles is one of your less endearing traits. Had I wanted, I could've pursued a doctorate myself, but I preferred working in the field producing real-world results rather than toiling in a classroom poring over theories. That's why I was able to solve the interface problems you were having and bring Project Prometheus to fruition."

 "It's a matter of professionalism," he said, not turning his head to meet her eyes. "I assume you've been following the protocols I've laid out regarding the pokemon test subjects and are releasing them alive?"

 "Yes, of course," she said airily, waving a dismissive hand.

 "I expect you to take this seriously. This is science, not butchery."

 "Need I remind you," she began in a slightly annoyed tone, "that Mr. Vanderburg is paying the bills here, not you?"

 Now, Doctor Talbot did turn to face her. "And need I remind _you_ that Mr. Vanderburg made it clear that this is still my project?"

 Miss Crane looked up at the hard-eyed man in front of her. "For someone whose greatest achievements are being realized before his eyes, you sure are a grumpy one," she said, her smile returning. "Now, come. I do believe we have work to do."

 * * *

 The sun had climbed only few finger widths above the eastern horizon when Cutter awoke. He rubbed his eyes and began pulling the covers back slowly so as not to disturb Ryan, but to his surprise, he found Ryan's side of the bed already empty. A glance toward the adjoining bathroom found the door open and the bathroom unoccupied. Cutter hopped out of bed and yawned, stretching his arms above him, his arm blades extending down past his shoulders as he did so.

 Cutter went downstairs and found Ryan busily cleaning countertops and stocking cabinets - an activity he usually performed much later in the day. Apparently, Ryan was finally taking his advice and getting an earlier start on his daily activities.

  _You came back in a little later than usual last night,_ Cutter said as he walked up to Ryan. _I didn't get a chance to ask how your date with Christina went._

 "It wasn't a date," Ryan said. "We have an arrangement, that's all."

  _So you didn't have a good time, then?_

 "I didn't say that."

  _So you did have a good time._

 Ryan shrugged. "It was better than I thought it would be."

  _You make it sound like you expected things to be unpleasant._

 "It's not that, it's just that with the way she acts most of the time, I wasn't expecting much in the way of conversation. It turns out she's got a pretty good head on her shoulders. We actually spent more time talking than eating. To be honest, I'm surprised she doesn't have a boyfriend to keep her occupied. I mean, she's definitely got a lot going for her in the looks department. I doubt she'd have much trouble finding guys who are interested."

  _That's just it, though. The vast majority of boys who express an interest in her company do so for purely physical reasons._

 "How would you know that?"

  _She speaks with me about several aspects of her personal life._

 Ryan paused in his cleaning. "She does?"

  _Does that surprise you? As much as I enjoy our conversations, and I sincerely do, I also enjoy opportunities to converse with others._

 "I'm not surprised that you talk to other people, Cutter, I'm just surprised that she'd talk about something that personal with you. I mean, she hasn't really known you all that long."

  _That is true, but she's quite personable and we've developed something of a rapport. Also, it's been my experience that people are often willing to share things with pokemon that they might not be comfortable sharing with another human. I'm guessing it's because most pokemon are capable of understanding just enough to be sympathetic but lack the faculties to divulge what is being shared or pass judgment on it. That, and people tend to view pokemon as cute, and thus, approachable._ Cutter smiled and batted his eyes dramatically.

 "Yeah, aren't you just adorable," Ryan said, resuming his work.

  _Did you know that Christina began to physically mature at a younger age than is typical? As a result, she suffered considerable disdain and ridicule from her peers while at the same time, received a great deal of attention from those older than her who were interested in her for purely physical reasons. For the past few years now, this has caused her no small amount of distress. We spoke at some length about this. After all, I know a thing or two about being valued primarily for your genetic attributes._

 Ryan frowned. "That sounds like some pretty personal stuff, Cutter. I don't know if she'd be happy about you telling me about it."

  _In this particular case I think it’s alright, as long as you exercise discretion with this information. I shared it because I believe that knowing this will help provide context for your interactions with her. You should also know that she greatly values your company because you always treat her with respect and your interactions are without ulterior motives._

 Ryan shrugged one shoulder. "I just treat her like I would anyone else. It's too bad she doesn't have more friends, though. I mean, she's not that bad to hang around with, even though she is four years younger than I am."

  _Actually, it's closer to three years - her fifteenth birthday is coming up soon. I believe that a gift from you would be well received._

 "I'll keep it in mind," Ryan said with a yawn, "if I haven't been fired by then."

  _Fired?_ Cutter's large eyes widened momentarily in surprise. _I wasn't aware that Doctor Lynd was dissatisfied with your job performance. When did this happen?_

 "It's not a matter of being dissatisfied, it's a matter of me being redundant. Now that she has that new veterinary intern working with her, she won't need me to help out around here anymore. If I don't find ways to stay useful, it's only a matter of time until she gives me the boot."

  _I think you misunderstand your relationship with Doctor Lynd. She seems quite fond of you._

 "Really? You of all people should understand what I'm talking about." Ryan waited for his words to sink in, but when Cutter's look of bewilderment persisted, he pressed on. "You used to work at NuGen, right? Spent a lot of time with the people who worked there? Got to know them?"

  _Yes. Why?_

 "Haven't you wondered why none of them have come looking for you? Asked how you've been? Asked if you're coming back? You left kind of suddenly, you know. Don't you think there'd be at least someone who was concerned?"

  _I already told you I have no interest in returning there._

 "But they don't know that. For all they know, I kidnapped you. When Trace found me, it wasn't because they sent him looking for you, it was because they had written him off, just like they've written you off. You know why? Because you already helped them finish their Technical Machine project. They stopped caring because you stopped being useful."

 Cutter shifted his feet uneasily and looked away.

 "That's how people are, Cutter," he continued in a softer tone. "The only time they care about someone else is when there's something in it for them."

  _Not everyone is like that,_ Cutter said without turning his head.

 "Maybe not, but if you live your life expecting the people around you to be the different ones, you're just setting yourself up for disappointment." Ryan stared at Cutter, who still wouldn't meet his eyes, and sighed heavily. "Look, I need to get this stuff finished so I don't wind up out on the street again, okay?"

 Cutter nodded and turned to leave but before he walked through the door, he stopped. _You always talk as if you have to do everything yourself,_ he said over his shoulder. _You're not alone, you know._

 Ryan said nothing, continuing his work in silence.

 About an hour later, after Ryan had finished, his phone rang with a now-familiar distinctive tone. He pulled the phone out of his pocket but instead of answering it, he simply placed it on a nearby table. A moment later, Trace emerged from the phone's surface, assembling himself into his physical form.

 "That was faster than I expected," Ryan said. "I hope you have good news."

 Trace twittered cheerily and his eyes glowed, projecting in midair a holographic split-screen display. The right half showed a telephone number and service details from a cellular service provider while the left half showed a detail map of Angel City with clusters of blue dots overlaid on it, each dot paired with a date and time stamp as well as GPS coordinates.

 "So this is our mystery caller, huh?" Ryan pointed to one spot on the map where most of the dots overlapped during the daytime hours. "And this must be where he works. Good job, Trace."

 * * *

 At about noon, Stacy strolled into the clinic's kitchen where Ryan and Cutter sat at the table eating sandwiches while nearby, Buster had his face buried in a food bowl on the floor.

 "Ryan, there's someone I'd like you to meet," Stacy said, gesturing to the man walking in behind her. "This is Gerard Lafayette. He's a pokemon researcher who works with the League. He's interested in talking to us, but he said he was anxious to meet you in particular."

 The man who now stood beside Stacy was a bit on the tall side and thin, standing just shy of six feet with short, curly, sandy brown hair. The pocket on his button-down shirt bulged with pens and an assortment of other small, unseen objects. At his side was a bipedal fox-like pokemon that stood just over half his height. Thick, yellow fur covered most of its body except its legs, which were black, and its face and chest, which were mostly white. Large tufts of dark orange fur sprouted from its ears and a stick jutted from its bushy tail.

 " _Bonjour_ ," the man said, extending a hand. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, _Monsieur_ Meadows."

 "Likewise," Ryan responded, shaking his hand. "Just call me Ryan."

 "Of course. And if it pleases you, you may call me Gerard." He gestured to the pokemon at his side. "And this is my companion, Fleur."

 "Between the accent and your braixen, I assume you're from Kalos, then?"

 "Indeed, I am," Gerard said. "When I was a boy, I found Fleur as a fennekin, capering in a field of flowers near the town where I grew up. That is why I named her so. When I grew up, I went on to study at the Royal University of Kalos at Lumiose, and then came to America to complete my studies at the University of Angel City. The Aureus region has many fascinating species of pokemon that are not found in Kalos." He smiled and looked toward Buster. "And apparently some not found anywhere else. Officially, I have come in hopes of studying your - metalleon, I believe you named the species?"

 As if suddenly aware of his presence, Buster looked up from his food bowl toward Gerard, licking his mouth.

 "Yep. Seemed like a pretty straightforward name. So, what kind of 'studying' did you have in mind?" He paused and cocked his head. "And what do you mean, 'officially'?"

 "My study of your pokemon would be quite benign, I assure you. For now, I would like to observe it, collect a few loose hairs after a brushing and perhaps a few mouth swabs. And the reason I said 'officially' is because unofficially, I am here at the behest of the Pokemon League to assist you in gathering information on what appears to be an organized and systematic abuse of pokemon."

 Ryan blinked. "You guys know about that, huh?"

 "Indeed. These abuses had come to the League's attention even before your friend shared what the two of you had found."

 "You're in luck, then. As it happens, I'm pretty sure I know where they're conducting their experiments. Or at least one of the places, anyway. The League can send in their boys and shut them down."

 "I'm afraid it isn't that simple," Gerard said. "While the League has considerable influence, they have no authority to make arrests. They need evidence to present to their contacts within law enforcement."

 "And they need someone to do the things they can't in order to get that evidence, right?"

 Gerard watched as Buster padded over and began sniffing at Fleur, who swiftly produced the stick from her tail and rapped him lightly on the nose. "Unofficially, yes."

 Stacy thumped her hand on the table. "Then what are we waiting for?"

 "A plan, for starters," Ryan said. "We'll have to go take a look at this place first to see what we're up against, but I think I have something that might work."

 * * *

 "This isn't going to work," Stacy said. "Anyone who's seen a movie - ever - won't buy it."

 Ryan and Stacy sat in her car across the street from a nondescript, multistory building. Its grey cinder block exterior and slightly dusty windows blended in with the other tall, weathered, not-quite-shabby-looking office buildings that lined the street. A ramp from the street dipped down into a parking garage below the first floor.

 "They don't have to buy it," Ryan replied. "I just need an excuse to walk through the door. After that, it won't matter if they throw me out on my ass."

 "I hope you're right."

 Ryan grinned and hefted the lumpy plastic bag. "Trust me."

 Ryan crossed the street and entered the building's parking garage. He saw surprisingly few cars parked there, considering the building's size. After a quick look around, he found an elevator and went inside. He glanced at the six buttons corresponding to the five floors and the garage and pushed the button for the first floor.

 When the elevator doors opened, Ryan was surprised to find a rather spacious reception area laid out in front of him, complete with comfortable couches and magazines stacked on end tables - all rather odd things to find in a supposedly secret illegal laboratory. A large reception desk stood opposite the elevator occupied by a young man smartly dressed in a button-down shirt and tie. Ryan found himself momentarily at a loss by the sheer incongruity of what he was seeing and what he'd been expecting.

 "Welcome sir. Are you here to apply?" the man behind the desk asked.

 "Apply? No, I have a delivery," Ryan said, quickly composing himself. He set the plastic bag down on one of the couches, using the motions of pulling out its contents to mask him sliding his cell phone deep between the couch's cushions. He straightened and held out several Chinese take-out boxes. "Kung pao chicken, egg rolls and fried rice," he said to the receptionist.

 The receptionist frowned. "I'm the one who normally orders lunch and I definitely didn't order Chinese food today. Who ordered it?"

 "I don't know. They give me the food and an address. My job's just to get it there." Ryan noted the receptionist's dubious expression and added, "Look, it's already paid for, so whether you take it or not doesn't matter to me."

 "Just leave it here, then," the receptionist said. "Someone probably just made a special order for some of the new employees.

 Ryan put the trio of small white cardboard boxes on the desk and got back into the elevator without further incident. A few minutes later, Ryan crossed the street back to Stacy's car and slid into the passenger seat.

 "Well?" Stacy asked.

 "Now we wait," Ryan replied. "Since we have a few hours to kill, what do say we grab something to eat?" He quirked a half smile. "I happen to know a pretty good Chinese take-out place."

 * * *

 Later that evening, inside the office building, the reception room was dark and quiet, the employees having long since gone home. It was within that dark stillness that the cushions of one of the couches began to shift and bounce. A few gyrations later, the cushions popped loose and Ryan's porygon Trace emerged, shaking its birdlike head and buzzing its annoyance.

 It looked around the room, then floated toward an electronic keypad on the wall near a door opposite the elevator. A horizontal beam of red light from Trace's eyes swept the keypad from top to bottom, then Trace touched its beak to the pad. A few moments later, the lit red LED on the keypad's face went out.

 Trace unlocked the door with its mouth then returned to the cell phone in the couch it had emerged from and tapped it, sending a short text message.

 A couple minutes later, the door opened from the stairwell beyond, from which Ryan and Stacy entered, flashlights shining in their hands. Trace floated up to Ryan and dropped the cell phone into his hands with an electronic twitter.

 "Yes, you did a good job," Ryan said, then watched the porygon dissolve back into the phone. "Though I do wonder how he learned to do this sort of thing."

  _He's just insatiably curious,_ Cutter said from behind him. _Back at NuGen, once he learned that there were other systems than his own work terminal that held interesting data, he quickly found ways of getting in. The more they tried to keep him in his terminal, the better he got at getting out of it - and into others._

 "Let's keep moving," Stacy said. "I don't want to be here any longer than we have to."

 Ryan and Stacy proceeded to check the first floor, finding only office spaces and a few rooms that contained only tables and chairs. There was one room that was different from the others, however, as it contained a two-way mirror that gave a view of a conference room beyond. It was in this room that they found an electronically locked metal box mounted to the wall.

 It actually took Trace a little while to get the lock open, but when he did, they discovered the box contained rows of keyrings hanging on pegs. The head of each key had a colored plastic inlay and each keyring appeared to contain different numbers of keys. Ryan took one of the rings that looked to have the most keys and the largest variety of colors and smiled. "Bingo," he whispered.

 With his new acquisition, Ryan was able to unlock the stairwell door to the second floor which opened into a long hallway lined with doors. Taking them one at a time, Ryan and Stacy found the first few to be storerooms and broom closets with fairly ordinary contents.

 The first room they came to that actually needed to be unlocked was a different story, for inside sat workbenches arrayed with magnifying lamps, soldering irons and an array of tools. Upon the workbenches sat small, complex electronic devices of uncertain function and incredible complexity. Ryan pulled out his cell phone and began taking pictures. They found other rooms like it as they went down the hallway, the devices and electronic equipment in each room larger and more complex than those found before.

 Finally, they came to a door that required a different key than the others - one that had a red tag. As Ryan opened the door he noted a strange, yet oddly familiar chemical smell. He shined his flashlight around the room - one that was much larger than the others - and his eyes immediately fell on the cylindrical tanks lining one wall.

 He entered to get a closer look and saw that the tanks closely resembled the ones he found at NuGen, some containing biological matter floating in a transparent liquid. As he examined them, he felt Cutter crowd in close against his side. Though Cutter remained silent, Ryan could feel a tingle of nervous energy radiating from the gallade.

 Stacy, meanwhile, began examining the rows of glass-fronted cages on the opposite wall, shining her light in each one. The cages were of different sizes with larger ones on the bottom and smaller ones above, none of which appeared occupied. "Empty," she said. "They must've cleared them all out with the last shipment to that pit fighting ring."

 Stacy gasped and recoiled in surprise as a tiny yellow shape darted forward from the shadowy recesses of one of the topmost cages, pressing itself against the glass.

 "That one's not empty," Ryan said with a smirk.

 "I can see that," she said, recovering her composure. She peered up at the creature for a moment, then opened the glass door and lifted it from its cage.

 "What are you doing?" Ryan asked.

 "It's a pichu," she said, holding it carefully in both hands. Its small triangular ears twitched as it swivelled its head back and forth between Ryan and Stacy.

 "I can see that it's a pichu. Why are you holding it?"

 "Well, we're sure as hell not leaving it here," she said. It squirmed in her hands as she ran her fingers across its body. "I don't see any surgical scars on this one."

 "They were probably waiting for it to mature before they started..." Ryan saw the apprehensive look in Cutter's eyes and let the rest of the sentence drop.

 He turned his attention to a stainless steel-topped table in the middle of the room upon which lay some sort of long, reinforced glove or gauntlet. The hand portion appeared to be made primarily of black leather with carbon-fiber structural pieces reinforcing it along the back while the forearm piece consisted of tough plastic plating inset with buttons and electronic displays. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. "I recognize some of the parts on this," Ryan said. "Some of the stuff we found in the other rooms looks like sub-assemblies of this thing."

 Stacy walked over, the pichu now settled into the crook of one arm. "What do you think it is?"

 "Don't know," he said, snapping a picture of it with his phone. "It must have something to do with the pokemon they're experimenting on, though."

  _Ryan, someone's coming,_ Cutter said.

 Ryan turned his head, barely hearing the quiet footsteps from out in the hallway just before two men walked through the door. Each of them wore black body armor and balaclavas which completely covered their heads. "Oh, shit," Ryan muttered.

 One of the men pointed a flashlight at them. "You, there. Come with us. Now."

 Ryan turned to Stacy. "We're getting the hell out of here," he whispered. "Follow me."

 Ryan pulled his staff from its sheath on his back and whipped it open, charging the man with the flashlight. Ryan swung his weapon at the man's head, hoping for a quick knockdown, but to his surprise, he brought an arm up and blocked the blow. Ryan now saw that the black-clad man wore gauntlets similar to the one on the metal table, and its armored forearm piece was what allowed him to fend off Ryan's attack without injury his arm.

 Ryan only had a moment to register this fact before the man stepped in close and counterattacked with an expertly executed flurry of strikes which sent Ryan reeling back several steps.

 The second man, also wearing similar gauntlets, began moving in from the side. He pressed a button on the forearm of one gauntlet and extended his hand toward Ryan.

 Ryan's eyes widened in surprise as a gout of flame burst forth from the man's gloved hand, shooting toward him from across the room. Fortunately, the man's aim was off just enough that Ryan wasn't hit with the full force of the blast. Nevertheless, the searing heat singed his arm and sent him diving for cover behind a table.

 Cutter vaulted forward, engaging the first man as Ryan scrambled back from the fiery assault, quickly rejoining Stacy who was now also ducking behind the same table.

 "Holy shit!" Ryan exclaimed, patting out his smoking shirt. "They've got security guards with flamethrowers?"

 "Looks that way," Stacy replied as another blast of flame shot over their heads. She saw Ryan pulling a poké ball from his belt and caught his arm. "No, don't. Buster won't have a chance against someone tossing around fire."

 Ryan peeked around the table and saw that the first armored guard was easily fending off Cutter's attacks. His gauntleted hands now arcing with electricity, the masked guard countered with brutal efficiency, each strike punctuated with a loud crack of electrical discharge as it connected. Within seconds, Cutter was staggering back, barely able to keep on his feet.

 "Then get Freya in there and douse that guy!" Ryan said.

 "I have a better idea." Stacy pulled one of her poké balls and activated it. Next to her materialized her gardevoir who looked around in surprise at the battle raging around her. Stacy quickly pulled her down behind the table with her. "Gia, psychic blast those two men, now!"

 Gia flinched as another blast of flame shot over them, then she nodded and stood.

 The air rippled with the waves of psychic force that shot from Gia's forehead. Ryan, crouching nearby, flinched as he felt the blasts pass overhead. The two masked men, however, cried out in pain, dropping to their knees and clutching their heads.

 "Go!" Stacy cried and surged forward. Ryan followed close on her heels, pausing long enough to pull Cutter along with him.

 As they passed the men, the fire-wielding guard, still staggered from Gia's attack, shakily raised his gauntlet, pointing it at Ryan. Ryan ducked his head, but to his surprise, no flames shot toward him.

 Without wasting another moment, Ryan, Stacy and their pokemon dashed down the stairwell and out of the building.

 * * *

 As Stacy drove them along through the night, Ryan reached into a duffel bag and pulled out a colorful plastic spray bottle. In the back seat Gia looked on with concern at Cutter, her delicate arm around his shoulders as he sat slumped next to her, his face battered and marred with electrical burns.

 Ryan turned around in his seat and held up the bottle. "Close your eyes tight," he said. "This stuff smells like it stings." He waited until Cutter complied then liberally sprayed his face. The liquid bubbled as it hit Cutter's broken skin, its pungent medicinal scent quickly filling the small car.

  _It does sting,_ Cutter said weakly.

 "Don't worry," Stacy said. "We're going to the nearest Pokemon Center that's not in the immediate area." She glanced at Ryan's split lip and swelling cheek. "You don't look so good, either."

 "I've had worse," Ryan said, stashing the bottle back into the duffel bag. "You know, that guy with the electricity hands might've had some battery packs stashed somewhere, but there's no way in hell that other guy could've thrown around that much fire without fuel tanks, which I definitely didn't see. Those gauntlets must be some sort of bio-tech weaponry powered by the pokemon parts they're growing in those tanks."

 "This is serious," Stacy said. "The Lumiose Accords specifically prohibit any nation or entity from using pokemon as weapons of war."

 "Gerard ought to have a field day with this, then." Ryan looked down at the pichu in his lap. "And why do I have to keep holding this thing, anyway?"

 "Because I'm driving," Stacy replied, "and I don't want it running loose in the car, especially when it might accidentally shock Cutter, who's already injured."

 "Oh, but you don't mind if it shocks me?"

 She looked over at him and smiled. "It won't if you're nice to it."

 * * *

 The next morning, Doctor Lynd walked out of the kitchen of her clinic after having finished nursing Alexander and found Stacy and Ryan arguing. Kala, her kangaskhan, followed close behind.

 "If you think he's so great, why don't you take care of him?" Ryan said sharply.

 "Because I already have six to take care of. You only have two," Stacy retorted.

 "I have three."

 "Trace doesn't count. You don't even have to feed him."

 Doctor Lynd stepped forward. "It's a bit early for raised voices. What's this about?"

 Ryan pointed at the pichu Stacy held. "Stacy's trying to stick me with another pokemon."

 "We rescued Spike together and now he wants to just get rid of him," Stacy protested.

 Doctor Lynd raised her eyebrows. "Spike?"

 "Yeah, because of his hair," Stacy said, ruffling the shock of long, spiky hair bent forward on top of the pichu's head.

 Doctor Lynd handed her baby to Kala then walked over to Stacy. She looked down at the pichu held in her arms. "Your arguing is upsetting him, Stacy," she said, noting the harried look on the diminutive pokemon's face.

 Chastised, Stacy ducked her head and murmured an apology.

 Doctor Lynd gently took the pichu from Stacy. "Now, I need a minute with Ryan," she told her quietly.

 Ryan watched Stacy leave the room, then braced himself for another hard sell.

 Doctor Lynd settled Spike into the crook of one arm, using her free hand to gently rub its red cheeks. "You don't have to take him if you don't want to."

 Ryan blinked in surprise. "I don't?"

 "Of course not. Why would you think otherwise?"

 "Well," Ryan began tentatively, "you were kind of pushy with Buster."

 "I suppose I was, but you only had one pokemon then." She leaned down and nuzzled the pichu with her nose. "Raising a young pokemon is a bit like raising a child. It takes a lot of time and effort to do it right. I can see that you already have quite a bit on your plate, so if you say you're not ready for another, then you're not."

 "Maybe Christina will take him," Ryan offered. "She only has Twitch and Crash."

 "I don't think that would be a good idea. She's got her hands full at the moment training some bad habits out of Crash and also, her having two energetic electric pokemon together would probably be more than she could handle. Don't worry. I'll get in touch with some people I know and make sure he gets a proper home. In the meantime, I'd like to ask a small favor."

 "Oh?"

 "I don't have the time to take care of Spike and it won't do to simply leave him in a cage. I'd like you to look after him until I find him a home." Seeing his protest already forming, she held up a forestalling hand. "I'm not trying to trick you into taking him, I simply need someone capable and reliable to look after his basic needs, just as you do with the other patients here."

 Ryan looked at the pichu, then at Doctor Lynd. "Yeah. I guess I could do that," he finally said.

 "Good. Since you're taking care of him for me, feel free to use the clinic's supplies for anything you need for him."

 "Will do. So, um, anyway," he said, his eyes shifting away, "I noticed that Mister Grant has been doing a lot of stuff for you, lately. Things must be a lot better having your new intern around."

 She thought for a moment, scratching her cheek. "Taylor is a fine veterinarian and a gifted student but he seems to have an aversion to the kinds of everyday office maintenance needed for a private practice like this one. I'm sure he'll do quite well at a big Pokemon Center where they have staff to change dirty cages and clean the test equipment." She paused to roll her eyes a little. "Anyway, I'm glad you're still around to take care of all that."

 Ryan looked back and nodded. "I'm glad that you're happy with my work."

 "Quite so, young man," she said with mock seriousness. "Oh, and one more thing." She pointedly looked at the splotch of reddened skin on his arm. "The next time you get a burn, I expect you to tell me about it. That one looks dangerously close to second-degree."

 The look on her face was dishearteningly stern, but Ryan also saw genuine concern evident in her eyes.

 "I will," he said.

 After excusing himself, Ryan went back upstairs to his room. He looked down at the sofa bed where Cutter, who would normally have been long since awake, still lay sleeping. Though his injuries were healed, the doctor at the pokemon center said he would need time to rest before he would fully recover. Ryan watched him for awhile, then sat down on the floor near the bed, his arms laid across his knees, staring at the carpet, the silence in the room broken only by the faint sound of Cutter's breathing.

 * * *

 A few days later, Gerard and his braixen, Fleur, arrived at the clinic for one of his now-regular visits to study and observe Buster. Today, Ryan saw that Stacy accompanied him.

 Stacy sat down on one of the sofas in the currently empty waiting room. "Gerard called me and said he had some news for us."

 Buster perked up as everyone found a seat, dashing out of the room then returning with a bluk berry in his mouth.

 "First, I want to thank you for the information you were able to obtain," Gerard began. "It answered a great many questions."

 "So you were able to bust those guys, right?" Ryan asked.

 Gerard sighed. "I'm afraid not. We were able to put the information in the right hands quickly but when the building was searched, nothing suspicious was found. Whatever you found there before has obviously been removed and with startling efficiency."

 Buster padded up to Fleur and set the berry at her feet. She picked up the saliva-coated berry, sniffing it with a dubious expression.

 "But we have pictures!" Stacy exclaimed. "And we saw everything they had there, including those weapon gauntlets. We're witnesses."

 "You have pictures of the devices, yes, but they don't show them shooting fire or electricity as you claim. And as far as being witnesses, you were committing a crime by breaking into that building, which not only harms your credibility but raises the possibility of you being prosecuted if you were to come forward officially."

 Ryan leaned forward in his seat, pointing a finger. "Hey, don't forget you're the one who asked us do to this."

 "Indeed," Gerard replied, "which is why we have taken every precaution to shield your identities and passed on your evidence anonymously."

 Buster slunk back to where Ryan sat, his ears drooping. Cutter, standing nearby, leaned in close to Buster and a moment later, Buster's ears perked up again. Cutter crossed to the front door, holding it open and Buster dashed outside.

 "So I got my ass kicked for nothing," Ryan said bitterly. "Terrific."

 "Not at all," Gerard said. "Because you found their building, we were able to conduct our own investigation into its ownership. As it happens, it's owned by a holding company that was owned by another holding company... In short, when we followed the trail to its source - no small task, so I'm told - we found the ultimate owner was Xenon Technologies, a cutting-edge tech firm whose research, not surprisingly, includes biotechnology."

 "Don't they make the new Phoenix aerial drones?" Ryan asked.

 Gerard nodded. "Among many other things."

 "We could still post the photos online like Ryan did with NuGen," Stacy suggested. "Let the public know what these asshats are doing."

 "This is different, _mon ami._ NuGen did not support what was being done in their laboratories and they were willing to admit the wrongdoing in an effort to protect their reputation. Xenon apparently does not have such noble motives and they have shown that they are willing to cover this up. If you go forward with what you have, they will likely respond that the images are doctored and paint you as radical activists seeking to prolong their fame at the expense of their company. The similarity between some of the current photos and the ones you took at NuGen will be viewed with suspicion."

 "Of course they're similar," Ryan shot back. "They're doing the same thing!"

 Buster pushed back through the front door which Cutter had left open a crack, a sprig of star jasmine held in his mouth. He returned to the braixen, whose eyes lit up at the sight of the white, five-petaled flowers, and set them on the floor. She picked them up, inhaling their fragrance, then placed them behind her ear with a smile. Triumphant, Buster returned to where Ryan sat and lay on the floor, tail wagging.

 "So what are you saying?" Stacy asked in an obvious tone of exasperation. "We just sit back and do nothing?"

 Gerard shook his head. "Not at all, but it would be most foolish to move ahead blindly against such people. I will speak with the higher-ups in the League and see what can be done. When I know more, I will let you know."

 * * *

 Later that day, Stacy found Ryan sitting outside on the grass, idly throwing a tennis ball for Buster. "I want to talk to you about something," she said, sitting down next to Ryan.

 "Yeah?"

 "You've been kind of off ever since our tangle with those Xenon guys."

 He gave her a sidelong look. "It's not like I've never lost a fight before, you know."

 "I know, but I also know how much it sucks to get beat, especially when it seems like you've put in a lot of hard work that wound up being for nothing."

 Ryan threw the tennis ball hard, sending it sailing down the hill upon which the clinic sat. Buster took off like a shot in pursuit. "They caught us by surprise, that's all. I'll be ready for them next time."

 "That's just it. They way you fight... You always act like you and your pokemon are two separate teams. Look, there's no question that you're tough, but being strong isn't enough. I know a lot about pokemon battling, most of which were lessons learned the hard way, and I'm telling you that you can't keep doing things the way you're doing them and expect to win."

 Ryan flicked at the grass in front of him. "So what is it that you're suggesting?"

 "You need to start working _with_ your pokemon, not just alongside them. And it might not hurt to give them some proper training while you're at it. As it happens, I have something in mind that just might do the trick."

 "And what might that be?"

 "There's a League pro-am event coming up. I think that training for that would be perfect for honing your team skills and toughening up your pokemon."

 Ryan frowned. "What's a pro-am event?"

 "It's an exhibition tournament that pairs professional trainers like myself with amateurs in a team competition. It's an event that's designed to attract new blood to the League and introduce them to competitive battling by having experienced mentors show them the ropes."

 "I don't know. I already told you that sport battling isn't really my thing."

 "Ryan, these Xenon jerks aren't going to just go away. If you want to be ready for them, this is the best way to do it."

 Buster returned with the tennis ball and set it at his feet. Over the past few weeks, Buster's fur had gotten thicker, his shoulders broader. It looked like he was finally starting to grow into his size and yet Ryan could still see in his eyes the expression of the eevee he once was. Buster was tough but at the same time Ryan knew that he wasn't really ready for the dangers he was being dragged into.

  _So much like I used to be,_ he thought.

 "Alright," Ryan said finally. "I'm in."


	6. Cold Blows the Wind

**The Winds of Time**

**Chapter 6**

**Cold Blows the Wind**

  

 

"Send him in," the man said over his shoulder to the speakerphone behind him. He idly combed his fingers through his short-cropped hair while staring out through the window of his office which provided a panoramic view of the city from its great height above it. He picked a tiny bit of lint from his dark, pinstriped suit before seating himself behind his broad mahogany desk.

 Shortly thereafter the door opened, admitting a bespectacled, round-faced man who quickly crossed the room. He placed a black briefcase-sized carrying case on the desk and opened it, revealing a single poké ball cradled in black foam padding.

 "Good morning, Carl," said the man behind the desk. "This is it, then?"

 "Yes, Mister Vanderburg," the round-faced man replied, removing the poké ball from its case and holding it up in his hand. The item appeared very similar to other commonly available poké balls with the notable exception that its upper half was colored a transparent magenta through which its metallic surface could be seen. "This poké ball is unlike anything that has ever been made before. It has a multi-layer titanium alloy shell reinforced with a carbon nano-matrix underlay." He pointed to the two bulges on the top half of the poké ball. "The maglock system incorporates superconducting electromagnets for a strong and virtually instantaneous seal. The conversion system was custom built as well, with high-current conductors for rapid energy flow and a special multi-core CPU resulting in a total conversion time of less than twenty seven milliseconds."

 "I assume you've tested it?" Mister Vanderburg asked.

 "Yes, sir. The maglock system alone was enough to keep an enraged tyrantrum at full strength contained and the conversion system is so fast that even when we disabled the maglock, none of the pokemon we tested it on were able to react fast enough to break out. This thing will catch any pokemon you throw it at - the first time, every time. Guaranteed."

 "Impressive. How many were you able to produce?"

 "So far, just the prototype."

 Mister Vanderburg folded his arms across his broad chest. "Just one?"

 "Well, sir," Carl began, "room temperature superconductors are extremely expensive to produce and we had to use a lot of hard-to-find materials to meet the specifications you laid out. The prototype alone used up our entire development budget. Needless to say, mass production is out of the question."

 "I see," Mister Vanderburg said, tapping his upper lip with a finger. "Still, if this item works as well as you claim, one should be all that's necessary."

 "If you like, sir, I can have some of the videos from the test runs forwarded to you for your review. I think you'll be impressed."

 "I don't think that will be necessary. I'm certain you wouldn’t have brought it to me unless you'd put it through its paces."

 Carl nodded, smiling. "We have, indeed, sir. And then some."

 "Excellent. Pass my congratulations on to your team, then. You may go."

 Mister Vanderburg waited until the man left his office before reaching for his phone, dialing it. He removed the poké ball from its case, holding it up before his eyes while the phone rang on the other end. "Miss Crane, the cage is ready. Prepare the fragment and let me know as soon as you have completed the necessary arrangements."

 * * *

 Arceus turned his head at the sound of the tiny pop of air which revealed to him who had arrived even before he saw her. "Hello, Mesprit. I was wondering when one of you would return."

  _Well, you know, I just thought it would be good to pop in. Literally._ Mesprit made a high-pitched giggling sound at her own joke. _As to the others, Uxie is still shadowing those humans and Azelf is helping Palkia with his end of things._

 "Good," Arceus said, "because The Winds of Time have certainly not improved in the meantime."

  _Yeah, about that. I've been meaning to ask you about this whole 'Winds of Time' thing. I know you've mentioned it in the past but I've never really thought much about it before. So what exactly are the Winds of Time and what do they have to do with us?_

 "The Winds of Time are the aggregate forces that push everything forward from the present to the future, leaving the past in its wake. And they are Winds - plural - because time is not a single, monolithic thing. For one thing, it flows at different rates in different places. At the same time, it is also part of the continuum which is given form by space, and living things affect and shape it."

  _Shape it? You mean by their choices and actions?_

 "Yes, but it's more complex than that. Living beings - humans in particular - leave an imprint in the time within which they exist. Humans have a word for it: _zeitgeist_ , which means 'the spirit of the age'. Proliferation of enlightenment, happiness and peace affects the Winds of Time, which leads to more of the same, as does tyranny, oppression and death. It is like a swimmer in a body of water. The swimmer is borne up by the water but also causes ripples and splashes in the water as he passes through it."

 Mesprit pondered for a moment, her tails swishing slowly behind her. _So when you say that the Winds of Time are cold, you're speaking metaphorically, then?_

 "Partially yes, but not exactly. It would be more accurate to say that I am speaking subjectively." Arceus saw the bewildered look on Mesprit's face and continued. "When you put your hand into an icy river, it feels cold. But the cold is not the reality of the water. The reality is that the particles that make up the water are moving slowly. The feeling of 'hot' or 'cold' is simply how you perceive the aggregate molecular motion of the water. In a similar way, I perceive the spirit of the age - the _zeitgeist_ of the Winds of Time."

  _So I take it then that we're trying to find the ones who are causing the Winds of Time to change for the worse and try to fix things before they get totally sad and nasty and stuff?_

 "In a rather colorful way of putting it, yes."

  _So how do we fix this once we figure it out?_ Mesprit blinked then looked up at Arceus with troubled eyes, her tails twisting tightly together. _You're not going to tell us to start snuffing people, are you?_

 "No, Mesprit. Such direct and drastic action would be inadvisable for many reasons. But we will not be solving this problem alone. There are those around whom the Winds of Time gather and flow more strongly - those who have the potential to make a great impact in their respective times. The one that Uxie is observing is one, I believe, as are several others who will doubtless play key roles in the events to come." Arceus turned to gaze out over the land below once again. "So many in one place and time I have never seen before. And, of course, the Winds always gather strongly around Dialga, him being who he is. Now, though, the winds about him have grown into an icy chill that I wonder if even he will be able to break free of, if he even has the desire to do so.

 Mesprit frowned. _Why is that? He wasn't always like this. What happened?_

 Arceus turned partially back toward Mesprit but did not meet her eyes. "Some time ago, he came to me for assistance in a matter he was having some difficulty with. I advised him in the manner I felt best, though he found my solution to be - unpalatable. Harsh words were exchanged and afterward, he retreated to his sanctum where, for the most part, he has since remained, removing himself from the affairs of this world."

  _That must've been one hell of an argument to send him off the map for over two hundred years! What were you arguing over?_

 "Nothing of consequence. In truth, we have argued many times before, occasionally just as fervently. In retrospect, I admit that my handling of the situation, though apt, may have been less than ideal." Arceus paused then shook his head. "Ah, well. Be that as it may, done is done and no amount of wishing otherwise will make it so."

 Mesprit kept her face neutral even though she wanted to goggle at his pathetic attempt at being coy. Whatever he and Dialga had it out over, Arceus clearly felt far guiltier about it than he was letting on. _'Done is done' my ass_ , she thought. She knew better than anyone that emotional matters were seldom so simple.

 * * *

 Mesprit looked around in wonder at the exotic landscape surrounding her - one that she had not seen in a very long time. A variety of flora both familiar and strange decorated the area in breathtakingly intricate patterns stretching out in huge swaths. She briefly wondered what shapes they would form if she flew higher. Above her, a midnight-blue sky twinkled with multicolored points of light across which danced sheets of luminous auroras. Ahead, a massive tower rose against the horizon, the only artificial structure to be seen.

 "What are you doing here?" came a familiar voice from behind.

 Mesprit turned around to see Dialga glowering down at her. _Visiting, obviously,_ she said with a smile.

 "And what makes you think I want visitors?"

 _Oh, please,_ Mesprit said, rolling her eyes. _If you really didn't want me here, I doubt I would've been able to get in_.

 Dialga made a long rumbling noise then finally spoke. "What, then, is the purpose of your visit?"

  _To catch up. You've been out of circulation for a long time. Two hundred years, is it now?_

 "Two hundred thirty two years," he began in a subdued voice, "four months and seventeen days."

  _So, why have you been gone so long?_

 "You couldn't possibly understand."

  _Maybe not, but I'm a really good listener. Whatever it was that's made you want to leave the world behind for this long must've been important to you._ She floated up to his face and gazed into his eyes. _I can see your pain,_ she pressed. _It hangs on you, weighing you down from the inside and when you feel like no one understands it, it makes the weight heavier because you can't share it with anyone._

 "Have you ever loved anyone, Mesprit?" he asked suddenly.

  _Have I ever loved anyone?_ she said with mild incredulity. _I'm the Being of Emotion, Dialga. It's kind of my thing._ She glanced upward, a tiny smile blossoming on her face. _I remember this one guy I used to travel with. He was one of the first Pokemon Rangers, back before they got all organized and stuff. He traveled a lot and I kept him company on the road. Smart guy. Funny, too. He used to call me his second wife._ She gave Dialga a bashful look. _Not like that, of course. I mean, the size difference alone..._ She trailed off, seeing the bitter expression on his face with sudden realization. She floated up closer to his face and looked into his eyes. _What was your human's name?_ she asked softly.

 "Savi. Her name was Savi."

  _What was she like? How did you meet her?_

 "I do not wish to speak of it. Even thinking on it pains me."

  _It hurts because you_ don't _talk about it. Come on, tell me. It helps, trust me._

 Dialga looked up at the multicolored points of light that dotted the sky of his domain and took a deep breath. A sharp pang, since dulled by the passage of time, now cut through his heart afresh as he allowed memories long kept from thought to be brought forward to his recollection. "I first met her two hundred thirty two years, six months and twelve days ago..."

 * * *

  _Sequence 1, Iteration 1. Origin minus 55 days._

A warm breeze blew across the plain, raising a gentle susurrus as it brushed the tall grasses that grew there, carrying the scent of earth and a hint of the fragrance of the flowers on the rugged hills in the distance. Dialga stood basking in the warm sunshine, a welcome respite from the bitter cold he'd been forced to endure while his attention was focused in areas with colder climes. After letting the noonday heat thoroughly soak into his metallic body he made his way to the foothills which held one of his favorite spots to relax and look out over the landscape. There, he would await what he hoped would be one of the region's spectacular sunsets typical of the season.

 As he reached the foothills, however, an unexpected sight in the distance drew his attention: A human. He held still, hoping that it would not notice him, knowing full well that between his size, his gleaming body and the lack of anything resembling cover, he would almost certainly be spotted. For a few breaths, his hope held. Then, he saw the human stop whatever it was doing and begin heading toward him.

 Dialga closed his eyes and sighed.

 For a moment, he considered simply leaving but the thought of fleeing this tiny creature rankled him even more than he dreaded the inevitable displays of awe and adulation it would shower upon him. Several years ago, he and his brother Palkia had been required to attend to a relatively minor matter in the area and were observed by the natives who had since begun to worship them as gods.

 The human was getting very close, now. Nothing for it but to endure its attention. He hoped it would allow itself to be sent away quickly.

 The human - a female, he could now see - had the deep bronze skin typical of the people of this region, her long, dark hair shimmering in the late afternoon sun. She wore very brief garb made mostly of animal skin that covered little of her lithe body but seemed sufficient to satisfy human sensibilities of modesty, if only just. A bracelet made with pieces of carved bone clattered softly on her wrist as she walked up to him, her other hand holding a basket full of berries.

 Dialga looked down at the diminutive creature before him who, rather than dropping to her knees or raising her hands and chanting plaintively, simply put a hand on her hip and looked him over appraisingly.

 "A shuca berry for you?" she asked in her native tongue, holding up a small, round, yellow fruit from her basket and waggling it before him as one might do to a favored pet.

 Dialga, stunned by the sheer audacity of this girl - not far into her womanhood by the look of her - could muster no coherent reply. Wishing to quickly end her ridiculous display of enticement, he leaned down to take the proffered fruit from her hand. Even though he felt certain that he must have eaten one of these fruits before, in all of his many years he could not remember ever tasting anything quite like the exotically spicy sweetness that now filled his mouth. As he chewed, he paused as he realized her hand was now stroking his brow. Despite the fact that he hated the mindless adoration - or abject fear - of the humans he often encountered, he now found himself thoroughly taken aback by the brazenly casual attitude of this human. _The way she treats me!_ he thought. _Is this girl simple?_ Though even as he considered, he could see in the deliberateness of her carriage and the sharpness of her eyes that this was not the case.

 "Another shuca, Metal Sky Beast?" she asked, bringing another fruit to his lips.

 At first, he thought she was addressing him in mythic terms but quickly realized it was simply a rather apt description of his color and composition. He accepted the berry, even allowing himself to continue to be handled without complaint, for in truth, her touch was gentle and not unpleasant.

 "This one is Savi," the girl said. "Does Metal Sky Beast speak?"

 "This one is Dialga," he replied in what he hoped was a reasonable approximation of the particular dialect of her tongue.

 "Dee-Halga," she repeated slowly. "I like this name. A strong name."

 Dialga leaned down so she wouldn't have to look straight up to talk to him. "Why do you not fear me? Surely you can see that I am mighty and fearsome?"

 "This one sees," Savi said. She turned toward the mountains and pointed. "Near the fire-mountain grows the most beautiful flowers. Though the fire-mountain is powerful, we know that fearing it will not quell it, should it become angry. Thus, we embrace it and what it offers: Our crops grow tall in its soil - including the shuca - and the hot waters near its base make for pleasant bathing." She turned to face Dialga. "Had you wished this one harm, there could surely be no escape, even though you were seen afar. This one approaches, then, to find either great beauty or a swift death. In neither is there reason for fearing."

 Dialga blinked in surprise, immediately taken by the girl's courage and simple, yet profound wisdom - a rarity for one so young. He decided to stay, spending the rest of the day with her, learning more about her and her people while she continued to ply him with shuca berries. When the sun had finally sunk low in the sky, Savi told him she had to return to her village.

 "This one hopes to find Dee-Halga again soon," she said, gathering her things.

 "If Savi returns tomorrow at this time, this one will be found here," Dialga replied. As he watched her walking off into the distance, he was surprised yet again by how fervently he found himself hoping she would return as promised.

  _Sequence 1, Iteration 1. Origin minus 54 days._

The following afternoon, Savi did, in fact, return. She laughed lightly at Dialga's expression of disappointment when he saw her with a much smaller basket of shuca berries.

 "Many apologies, Dee-Halga," she said as she fed him a berry. "My family needs them for food and trade. These, I can spare, though, and any more I can find until the end of the season."

 Mollified by the tasty offering, he accepted her mild teasing in good humor and spent the rest of the afternoon conversing with this most peculiar and interesting human. As dusk began to fall, he briefly considered walking back with her to her village but knew that such a thing would only prove to disrupt the lives of her people.

 For once, he felt that the next day couldn't come soon enough.

 Unfailingly, Savi returned daily to find Dialga waiting for her. The supply of berries wouldn't last long but Dialga didn't mind all that much. They spent the afternoons speaking to one another of more personal parts of their lives. Savi spoke of her family and friends, of the young man whose eye she hoped to catch and of the life she wanted for herself and the many children she hoped to bear. Dialga spoke of his own doings as well, sharing tales of far-away places and events from times long ago, forgotten by all but him. He even found that his explanations of the complexities of the flow of time and how he could manipulate it were not beyond Savi's attentive ear and quick mind.

 There were also times when conversation was not the order of the day. Sometimes when Savi was exhausted from a day of hard work in her village, Dialga would let her lay against his side, curling his neck protectively around her while she rested. Other times, when Dialga was of a mood, all he needed to do was stretch out on the ground in front of her and she would obligingly stroke his neck and sing him some of the songs of her people which quickly were becoming his favorite.

  _Sequence 1, Iteration 1. Origin._

Today was a special day for Savi, though she did not yet know it. Over the past weeks, she had expressed a desire to see some of the far-flung places in the world that Dialga had spoken of. Today, Dialga was going to take her to see them. She could take as much time as she wanted and he would still be able to get her home by dinner.

 Stepping through the portal from his home, Dialga was surprised to find the air thick with falling snow - an unheard-of thing in this warm southern geography. He quickly realized that the gray flakes falling around him weren't snow but ash which blanketed the ground and darkened the sky.

 A thunderous booming sound drew his attention to the mountains before him. He looked up to see a bright orange plume spewing from the highest peak and rolling down the mountainside in a river of fire. The grasslands burned where volcanic fire had touched them, further choking the ash-filled air with billows of thick, black smoke. Chunks of burning magma arced through the sky trailing streamers of smoke, falling around him in a fiery hail.

 He rushed toward where he knew Savi's village to be, navigating a meandering path through the hellish landscape. As he rounded the hills, he was barely able to make out the village in the distance through the smoky air. Above the village, a surge of lava rolled down the mountain at an incredible speed. Dialga could only watch as the fiery deluge swept over the village, erasing it from existence in but a few heartbeats.

 Dialga stood, stunned, amid the devastation, the booming sound of the eruption echoing across the mountains punctuated by the tinkling of falling shards of volcanic glass. He shook his head, his features drawing into a serious expression as he collected himself. With deliberate care, he concentrated, the jewel in his chest flaring brightly as he set a temporal anchor to use as a point of origin from which he could easily traverse, alter or undo any timelines resulting from the incursions he was about to make. Despite the fact that the situation would be easily remedied, he was surprised by how deeply it had shaken him.

  _Sequence 2, Iteration 1. Origin minus 1 day._

"But why must we go, Dee-Halga?" Savi protested. "I promised my mother I would help her prepare for the festival. I can't just..."

 "There will be no festival, Savi!" Dialga interrupted. "Tomorrow, everyone will be..." Dialga paused, his head lowering. "The fire-mountain will destroy everything," he finished softly.

 "The fire-mountain? But how do you..." Savi began, looking up at him in shock. A moment later, understanding spread across her face. "Dee-Halga has seen this," she said as a statement, not a question.

 Dialga simply nodded.

 "Then we must save my village," Savi said.

 "I don't think that would be possible," Dialga said. "Relocating so many people would be a great undertaking. Furthermore, changing time is not a thing done lightly. The results of changes I make become more difficult to predict the more I change and the farther back I go."

 "But what of my family?" Savi pleaded. "Certainly Dee-Halga can save one family?"

 He was about to try to dissuade her, but upon seeing her distraught expression he didn't have the heart to refuse her. "Very well. But you must bring them here at once."

 Savi left and returned quickly with her family in tow who, much to Dialga's dismay, immediately fell into displays of awe. After settling everyone, Dialga opened a portal and led them through.

 The first tribe Dialga settled Savi's family with, while amenable to letting them join, offered few opportunities for integration. Savi's parents, whose professions were the care of alpacas and the use of their fleece, had particular trouble adjusting to life in a tribe that did not domesticate these animals. A virulent sickness that swept through the village not long after their arrival convinced Dialga that this was not the place for them.

  _Sequence 2, Iteration 2._

The second tribe Dialga took Savi's family to, which was supposedly friendly, had undergone a recent change in leadership with the death of its chief and had become hostile to outsiders.

  _Sequence 2, Iteration 3._

The next tribe proved quite friendly and welcoming to Savi's family, though it was a bit nearer to the volcano than Dialga had wanted. After the eruption, Dialga found Savi hiding far from their new home. She tearfully recounted how, after the eruption occurred, the new tribe took it as a sign that the village had offended their gods by accepting the newcomers. In an attempt to appease the gods, the village offered her family up as sacrifices, with Savi herself barely able to escape.

  _Sequence 2, Iteration 4._

The next tribe was far enough away from the volcano that it was unlikely to be a factor. Unfortunately, the chief of the tribe demanded Savi's young sister to be one of his wives as the price for them being allowed to stay. Even Dialga could see that the girl was far too young for such a thing and even had the family consented, he would not leave Savi in such a place.

  _Sequence 3, Iteration 1. Origin minus 1 day._

"But why will you not save them?" Savi asked tearfully.

 "I already tried, Savi," Dialga explained to her. "There are still a few places left where I think you could go, but only a few."

 "But Dee-Halga is powerful. Many people think him a god. Dee-Halga told this one so himself. Surely, such a mighty one could make them take this one's family."

 "Savi, I haven't told you much about my family, but I do have a father. He doesn't involve himself much in my life nor has he laid many rules upon me. One of them, however, is that we are not to present ourselves as gods to humans." Savi began to protest but Dialga quickly cut her off. "I do not often agree with my father, but in this, I believe he is correct."

 The next tribe Dialga took Savi to accepted her reluctantly, partly due to her dialect being so different as to practically be another language entirely. Though Dialga knew that the tribes in this area were less friendly and progressive than the ones he visited before - that is why he avoided them in previous iterations - he was unaware of how rigid the social structure in this tribe was until Savi returned with her face badly bruised. Women in this tribe were apparently little more than chattel and Savi's spirited nature had earned swift and severe punishment.

 As the days passed, Savi's visits grew more infrequent and Dialga saw the spark that made her what he had grown so fond of gradually begin to die away.

 This would not do.

  _Sequence 3, Iterations 2-6._

Each of the remaining tribes in the area proved to be little better, some even worse. When Savi told Dialga of the brutal blood rituals and extensive self-scarification that was practiced by the last tribe even upon their children, he realized that her future was not to be found here among her own people.

  _Sequence 4, Iteration 1. Origin minus 1 day._

Far across the ocean, other civilizations flourished whose populations now began to settle in sprawling towns and cities from which the fires of industry began to rise. It was to one of these cities that Dialga brought Savi, hoping that despite the alien culture, she would be able to fit in among the multitudes.

 Unfortunately, Dialga underestimated the impact of his arrival near an urban center which caused a great upheaval among the people living there. It was only the latest in many changes Dialga had seen the world undergoing lately - so many in such a short time.

  _Sequence 4, Iteration 2._

Dialga found his presence among the many remaining rural areas of this more modern culture to be far less invasive and was soon able to find a family willing to take Savi in. While things looked promising at first, Savi found herself relegated to a role of servitude within the family, treated little better than the animals she tended. With her new family unwilling to educate her in the local language or customs, her prospects for improving her lot were virtually nonexistent.

  _Sequence 4, Iteration 9._

After several more attempts, Dialga found success at last. A couple who had been unable to have children of their own took Savi in and taught her in the ways of their society. They treated her as if she were their own daughter, sharing in all the fruits of their farm which prospered under her hand.

 As the months passed, she even found love and soon after, she came to Dialga and joyfully announced that she was with child. Unable to contain her excitement, she pleaded with him until he agreed to go forward in time to see if her child would be a boy or a girl.

 When he arrived in the future, Savi was not to be found for she had died in childbirth.

  _Sequence 4, Iteration 14._

Unable to persuade Savi to forgo having a child, Dialga did his best to arrange what help he could for Savi. The medicine of this time, while able to save her life, was unable to save her child and left her unable to bear any more. Unable to provide him a family, Savi's husband eventually left her. Savi was left barren, alone and heartbroken.

  _Sequence 4, Iteration 39._

After many more failed attempts to find a proper home for Savi, he decided that the only one who could keep her safe and well was himself. At first they were happy together, Dialga able to comfort her through the initial loss of her family and tribe.

Over time, he knew she would need to see more of her own world and be among humans, so he took her on travels around the world, seeing many new sights. With each excursion, however, Dialga saw Savi becoming more restless and unhappy. She confided in him that she greatly desired lasting relationships with others and a family of her own. Having had several close calls with diseases and violence, Dialga had little desire to leave Savi among a foreign people. Still, he came to realize that simply keeping Savi in a place of isolated safety was not enough. She needed more than mere survival in order to live.

 After much consideration, Dialga decided that Savi's best hope for happiness lay among her own people, after all. He knew that saving an entire tribe would require the kind of changes he had hoped to avoid but he knew that such a thing was by no means beyond him and, in truth, it had been quite a while since his abilities had been truly tested.

 He intended to rise to this challenge.

  _Sequence 21, Iteration 1. Origin minus 4 months._

Savi's tribe greeted his arrival with the expected shows of awe, but even so, it took a bit of effort to convince the tribe to agree to uproot themselves and move to a new location. The part that weighed most on him was the way his intrusion altered his introduction to Savi. Even though she understood he was there to help, the fact that their first meeting was him taking her from her home altered her perceptions of him for the worse.

 The evening of the second day after the tribe had departed their village, the people were camped out upon the plain under a new moon, the stars the only light peeking through the blanket of night. Small campfires dotted the encampment, pushing back the surrounding darkness in small islands of light. Outside the camp, Dialga was pondering the leg of the journey still ahead when a scream cut through the air, soon joined by others.

 He rushed to the camp to find the people in disarray as fleet-footed shapes darted in from the surrounding darkness, attacking villagers at the camp's periphery before darting away again. Dialga charged toward the nearest attackers - a pair of large, dark purple feline pokemon - and breathed a blast of dragonfire on them both, incinerating one and sending the second running. The man who had been fighting the pokemon - liepard, by the looks of the dead one in front of him - was badly slashed but his wounds didn't appear to be life-threatening.

 As Dialga charged, roaring, through the camp, the remaining liepard quickly dispersed, melting back into the night-shrouded grassland. He then rushed off in search of Savi, his heart pounding a rapid cadence to match his churning feet.

 A trail of blood from her encampment led to a stand of trees where a knot of liepard sat with their faces buried in a bloody pile of flesh. After chasing them away, Dialga stared down at the corpse whose flesh had been stripped to the point of unrecognizability. On its wrist, however, was an all-too-familiar bracelet made of pieces of carved bone.

  _Sequence 21, Iteration 6._

After several more attempts, Dialga managed to get the tribe - whole and unharmed - to the place he had selected for them. Though they appeared to fare reasonably well at first, the crops they were accustomed to planting did not grow well in the new area. Weakened by famine, they proved easy targets when a neighboring tribe came raiding. Fiercely defending her family, Savi was slain in the fighting.

  _Sequence 21, Iteration 9._

This time, when the tribe arrived, Dialga made sure they had everything they needed to not only survive, but thrive beyond any of their neighbors. He brought them seeds to plant that weren't reliant on the volcanic soil of their previous home and enough food to last them until their first harvest. He brought in herds of miltank, bouffalant and cottonee for sustenance and clothing. Flocks of sigilyph now soared overhead as well, guarding them against outside threats.

 Dialga's preparations proved exceedingly effective as Savi's people quickly grew prosperous, rapidly expanding and folding the surrounding tribes and their resources into their own in the beginnings of a mighty nation.

 Their wealth and success would quickly come to the attention of others, however. In the days that Dialga was proudly watching Savi's belly grow large with her second child, people from a distant land arrived in great ships, wearing metal helmets and breastplates and quickly conquered Savi's people with mighty weapons that spewed smoke and dealt death from afar.

 Dialga, initially enraged by the interlopers who had undone his best-laid plans, briefly considered defending Savi's people directly but quickly discarded the notion. Aside from the fact that Arceus discouraged open conflict with humans, he knew that starting a war with these advanced newcomers would set ripples in motion that would likely prove even more problematic. More to the point, such a thing was beneath him. He was the guardian of time, after all - a master of subtlety and sublime forces - and as such, he regarded open warfare as little more than common brawling on a larger scale.

 He came to the realization that he was approaching this the wrong way. He wasn't the only one who had power, after all.

  _Sequence 22, Iteration 1. Origin minus 7 days._

Dialga eyed the large pokemon pacing in front of him, the light from the magma pool beyond adding an orange glow to its crimson-plated hide.

 "This volcano you speak of is in a remote place with few people living near it. Why do you want my help with this so badly?" the red pokemon asked in a deep, rumbling voice.

 "Because I have deemed it important, Groudon," Dialga replied in a measured tone. "Isn't that enough?"

 "We have our needs, this is true," Groudon said, "but the earth has its own needs as well. These things need to happen from time to time."

 "Make it happen somewhere else," Dialga said, irritation creeping into his voice.

 "It's not that simple. If you think changes need to be made, then use your own considerable powers. I cannot help you."

  _Sequence 22, Iteration 4._

"It will be disastrous if the volcano erupts," Dialga said.

 "It will be far more disastrous if it doesn't," Groudon replied.

  _Sequence 22, Iteration 10._

"I don't need you to stop the eruption, just alter it," Dialga said.

 "Volcanoes are not lightly tampered with, Dialga. I will not do such a thing unless the need is great. And it is not."

  _Sequence 22, Iteration 18._

"Someone important to me will die if you don't intervene."

 "Then take this person away from there." Groudon began to wade back into his magma pool. "Why must you bother me for such a simple matter? Deal with it yourself."

  _Sequence 22, Iteration 19. Origin minus 6 minutes._

Groudon and Dialga stood before the volcano as it spewed ash into the sky. Groudon looked up at it and shook his head "This is a very bad idea, Dialga. This area is tectonically unstable. I can feel it."

 Dialga glared at the great, red pokemon. "I don't need your opinions, Groudon. I just need you to divert some lava. Now, are you going to do it or should I put you back in that time loop for a while longer?"

 Groudon's face briefly took on a haunted expression then he quickly looked away toward the oncoming flow of lava and ash speeding down the mountain. "A pyroclastic flow," he said ruefully. "This will require a much greater effort to divert."

 Groudon closed his eyes and the black stripes that marked the borders of the segments of his thick red hide began to glow blue. The luminance built in intensity until finally, Groudon opened his eyes and roared, the blue light flaring brightly as he stomped his foot upon the ground.

 The earth shook anew as a split formed in the ground at Groudon's foot, shooting forward and widening as it went. Dialga had to quickly step back as the fissure continued to spread and deepen, cutting across the path of the oncoming lava. He watched the churning slide of molten rock rush down the mountainside, only to be swallowed the growing chasm.

 As the lava flow filled the cleft in the earth and threatened to spill over, Groudon gestured toward the fissure and spread his arms wide. In response, the fissure began to widen further, hungrily swallowing the lava that the volcano spewed forth.

 The earth shuddered again, then suddenly, thrust up violently, toppling Dialga off his feet. He looked around and saw that the ground on his side of the fissure was now several feet higher than on the other side. The fissure, now over a hundred feet wide, continued to grow at an accelerating rate while the earth continued to buck and roil underneath him.

 Just as Dialga was getting his feet underneath him once again, a deafening explosion shattered the air, the concussive force of which blasted him sideways and sent him tumbling. Reflexively, Dialga summoned what strength he could muster and brought time to a standstill.

 Dialga lay panting as the world stood frozen around him, the unnatural silence broken only by the ringing of his ears. He looked up from the ground at the surreal scene of destruction that made even him stare in shock: A second massive plume of lava had exploded outward from the side of the volcano in a shower of fire and rock that dwarfed the original eruption. The earth around him lay cracked and broken, the fissure made by Groudon now extending in either direction as far as he could see in the ash-choked air.

 Dialga slowly stood on wobbly legs, still staggered from the volcano's explosion. He looked up again at the colossal fan of magma spraying from the side of the volcano frozen in midair high above him. Judging from its arc, it would rain fiery death upon everything in its path for miles.

 Including Savi's village.

  _Sequence 37, Iteration 1. Origin minus 115 years._

The tribe needed to be well away from the volcano, but attempting to relocate them had failed. Instead, he decided that, rather than artificially transplanting them, he would go far enough back to affect their initial placement and allow them to settle in naturally.

 After doing so and returning to the present, he found that Savi had never been born. He wasn't all that surprised, given the extent of the change. It just needed a few tweaks.

  _Sequence 37, Iteration 8. Origin minus 17 years._

Encouraged at finally seeing Savi's mother reappear in the timestream, he watched with eager anticipation when she became pregnant. Savi's mother was impoverished in this timeline, however, and often did not eat well. As a result, Savi was born weak and died soon after.

  _Sequence 37, Iteration 17. Origin minus 17 years._

Taking a more direct hand in matters, Dialga made sure Savi's mother was well-fed before, during and after her pregnancy. Dialga was overjoyed when Savi was born healthy and strong. Hopping forward in time, he continued to care for her at frequent intervals in her early life.

 As she grew older under his care, he saw that she was becoming arrogant and cruel. Despite his best efforts to impart wisdom, her strong spirit became twisted into a sense of entitlement. At the age of 17, touting her patronage by "the god of ages" she ascended to rule her village by "divine right." Her people suffered under her tyrannical reign and at the age of 18, she was assassinated by her own brother.

  _Sequence 51, Iteration 122. Origin minus 55 days._

At long last, Dialga had combined elements of past successes in perfect combination. He ensured that Savi's lineage was perfectly duplicated despite the many changes he had made. Savi was virtually the same person he originally knew, even greeting him at their new "first" meeting the same as in the original timeline.

 It was truly a triumph - a masterpiece of temporal artistry that was unmatched by any effort Dialga had previously attempted. In the days that followed, Dialga began to forget the horrors of his past failures under Savi's gentle hand and warm smile.

 He was considering removing the temporal anchor and letting this timeline become permanent when he received an unexpected visitor.

 Himself.

 He could immediately feel that this version of himself came from the future. He knew what this meant. Only the direst of circumstances would cause him to actually visit a past version of himself rather than simply change the timestream.

 "Follow me," his other self said.

 Dialga knew better than to argue. Synchronizing with his twin, they traveled forward together in time.

  _Sequence 51, Iteration 122. Origin plus 242 years._

They arrived on a hill overlooking a sprawling, modern metropolis that extended as far as the eye could see. Dialga recognized the mountains nearby as the same ones where Savi's village was located.

 Dialga concentrated for a moment then gasped in surprise. He determined that they had traveled 242 years into the future, a thing virtually unheard-of as the quickly branching timestream should have diverged into a formless chaos of unrealized possibility long before then. The fact that it hadn't meant that this timeline was a virtual certainty.

 "Watch," Dialga's future twin said, nodding toward the city.

 In the distance, a line of smoke rose into the air, quickly joined by several others. Dialga watched the smoke lines change direction, arcing in tandem with each other toward the horizon.

 "What were those?" Dialga asked his twin, "and why did you bring me here?"

 "Wait," his twin replied, his face a stony mask.

 Almost a half an hour passed and Dialga was about to press his twin when another strange line of smoke came over the horizon toward the city. It reminded him somewhat of the fiery rocks that shot from the volcano when it had erupted but this one moved much faster. He followed its track with dismay as it streaked ever closer.

 Light.

 A blinding flash as if the sun itself had appeared within the city.

 A sharp jolt beneath Dialga's feet, slowing into a rumble.

 Silence.

 Dialga slowly opened his eyes, still dazzled with the afterimage of the initial flash, and saw that his twin had frozen time. He stared at the enormous mushroom-shaped cloud hanging over the city and the ring of devastation that extended for miles beyond it.

 "This is as much as I can safely show you," Dialga's twin said. "Within hours, these explosions will scour all life from the planet." He turned to face Dialga, fixing him with an iron gaze. "All life. Everything. Gone."

 "We... we did this?" Dialga asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

 "Yes."

 * * *

 High upon his mountain, Arceus watched a portal open and saw Dialga emerge from it. He greeted his son but instead of responding, Dialga simply stared at him, ashen-faced, swaying on his feet.

 "What is wrong, Dialga," Arceus asked, his face drawing with concern.

 Without preamble, Savi's story came spilling from Dialga's mouth, at first in a semi-chaotic jumble, finally resolving into clarity by the end. "What do I do?" Dialga asked at last, his voice trembling and hoarse.

 Arceus considered for a long while before speaking. "The only thing you can do," he finally replied. "Let her go."

 "But father... You are wise and powerful. Surely there is something..."

 "She is mortal, Dialga," he said mildly. "Before long, she will pass from this world anyway. Do not cause yourself further pain on account of such a fleeting thing. After all, there will be others."

 Dialga's face twisted from despair into rage. His anger flowed in a torrent of harsh words, answered by stern rebuke from his father. The rancorous exchange escalated until, with a final, hardened look, Dialga departed from his father's presence.

  _Sequence 1, Iteration 2. Origin._

Standing at the foot of the mountains, Dialga stared numbly out across the plain even as ash and fire rained down all around him. He barely felt the sting of the shards of volcanic glass that fell upon him as the jewel in his chest began to glow. He reached out to the temporal anchor that, to the world, he had placed there only moments ago but to him, as though many lifetimes had passed. As he withdrew it, he felt the finality of his decision to abandon the one person he cared most about in the entire world settle upon him like an iron yoke. When finally it had been drawn forth from its other-dimensional space, removing all traces of his changes to the timestream, he felt it begin to evaporate in his metaphysical grasp, and with it, all hope for Savi.

 * * *

  _The present._

"As I stood there, I could hear screams through the ash. Despite all I had tried, I still wanted to do something. I mean, they were right there in front of me. I could practically reach out and touch them. How could you not want to do something when people are burning alive in front of you? But I knew that if I did reach out, it wouldn't do any good. I knew this because I tried to save them and all I could do was watch the Winds of Time turn them to sand in my grasp."

  _Maybe there's something we can still do?_ Mesprit said. _Surely there was somewhere Savi could've found happiness in her own time? And even if there wasn't, the world is very different now. I'm sure we could find a place for her here in this time._

 Dialga shook his head. "Going back now is out of the question. Were I to make even the slightest of changes to the past that far back, the effects on the present could be catastrophic. And as to my past efforts, I have no doubt that even back then, someone, somewhere would've given Savi a home. But how many times would I have had to watch her suffer or even die before I found them? Ten times? A hundred? A thousand? I couldn't do it, Mesprit. I couldn't bear to see it happen even one more time." Dialga closed his eyes and let out a deep breath before continuing. "I can command time itself, move it at my whim, yet for all my power I couldn't save one human girl. I thought myself time's master, Mesprit, but I was wrong. You see, time has no master," Dialga paused, looking away. "And it needs no guardian."

 At last, Mesprit understood what could drive one such as Dialga, a being possessed of immense power and, once, an indomitable will, from the world for so long, for now she could feel the depth of Dialga's loss, an almost unimaginable pain compounded by a crushing defeat so complete that it had left him bereft of purpose. She could only imagine what it would be like watching someone you loved being taken from you over and over, feeling the terrible pang of loss endlessly renewed. It would be more than anyone could bear.

 She floated up and perched lightly on his back, leaning into his sinuous neck. Too long had he borne this terrible burden alone. For now, the only thing she could do was to stay with him and try to ease his unspeakable pain with her presence.

 In the cruelest of ironies, she realized that aside from her company, the very thing that wounded him was what he needed most to heal:

 Time.


	7. Training Day

 On a hill overlooking the outskirts of a nearby city, Palkia stood looking down at a complex of buildings surrounded by tall chain-link fencing.

 "There it is," Palkia said, pointing to the large, cinder block building in the center of the complex. Few windows adorned its walls but its roof hosted a variety of antennas and satellite dishes.

  _Are you sure_? asked the tiny blue-headed pokemon floating beside him.

 "It's a piece of my own body, Azelf. Yes, I'm sure. I don't know where or how they got a piece of one of my jewels but they won't have it for long."

  _What are you going to do?_

 "I'm going to take it back," Palkia said.

  _Are you sure that's such a good idea? Don't get me wrong. I'm all for decisive action but humans have a lot of interesting toys these days and some of them can be pretty dangerous._

 Palkia turned a serious eye to Azelf. "That jewel fragment is incredibly powerful. It's too dangerous to leave in anyone else's hands."

 Azelf thought for a moment, then nodded and watched Palkia disappear in a twisting of space.

 Palkia reappeared inside the large building whose spacious interior held a multitude of small to medium metallic devices with blinking displays arranged in rows. Even the walls were lined with scaffolding and cables connected to who-knew-what. These various bits of technology were attended by a scattering of humans whose activities immediately ceased upon his unexpected arrival in their midst. Palkia was not interested in any of those things however, for at the far end of the cavernous room sat a large metal and glass cylinder surrounded by even more machinery inside which sat a tiny pink fragment that Palkia could feel resonating with his very being. A single, red-haired woman, apparently the only person unaware of his arrival, methodically operated the machinery connected to it. He made his way toward the end of the room, the majority of the humans scurrying away as he approached.

 "Return the jewel fragment to me," Palkia intoned.

 The woman turned her head and gave Palkia a casual look, seemingly unruffled by his presence. "But why?" she asked. "It's utterly fascinating, you know. We've learned so much from it."

 "You have no idea what it is you're playing with," Palkia's sharp eyes focused on the laminated card clipped to her shirt bearing her photo, "Serena Crane."

 "I have every idea what it is," she said. She raised her hand and suddenly, dozens of black-clad men in body armor emerged from doors in the sides of the room, armed with a combination of firearms and Prometheus gauntlets, and began to surround Palkia. "And I'm not playing."

 Palkia quickly surveyed the firepower arrayed against him and decided that the odds were not in his favor. "This isn't over," he said and began to draw space around himself...

 ...but it refused to budge as he pulled on it. He looked around and could sense that the gridwork in the walls - connected by cabling to the cylinder holding the jewel fragment - was anchoring space in the room, preventing it from being manipulated.

 "Oh, but it is," the red-haired woman said and nodded to someone behind Palkia.

 Palkia saw one of the masked humans - a female - step forward and throw a poké ball.

 In less than heartbeat, a brilliant flash engulfed him and he felt a tremendous force dragging him violently inside, like a whirlpool pulling a leaf into its hungry maw.

 * * *

 Ryan stood in his room, recently awakened, the wooden floor cold against his bare feet. He went to his dresser and grabbed two boxes of poké chow, shaking their contents into two separate bowls on the floor, the sound of which brought Buster and Spike running, barely waiting for Ryan to stop pouring before digging in. He went to his window and saw that Stacy and her blaziken, Max, were outside on the grass. A moment later, he heard a knock at the door. "Who is it?" he called.

  _It's Gia_ , came a psychic voice from outside. _May I come in?_

 "Yeah, sure," Ryan said, looking out at the through the window. He heard the door open, then close behind him. Even upon the wooden floor, Gia's footsteps were almost silent as she entered.

  _I'm a little surprised you could hear me through the door. Most people can't unless I have a clear line of sight._

 "Cutter must be rubbing off on me. I have to say, though," he said, giving Gia a sidelong look, "I'm not sure how I feel about having mind-readers running around in my head."

  _What do you mean?_ Gia asked.

 "You're psychic. You read minds don't you? That's how you're able to communicate, right?"

  _In the most general sense, yes, that's how we communicate. However, you're mistaken in your belief that we dig through peoples' minds, mainly because we can't._

 "What do you mean you can't? You just said you communicate by mind-reading."

  _Only surface thoughts. Anything beyond that is hidden._

 "I don't know about that," Ryan said, giving Gia a skeptical eye. "When I first met Cutter at NuGen, they were using him as a living lie-detector. I'm pretty sure he wasn't faking, either. How could he do that without really reading my mind?"

  _Likely through sensing your emotional state, which is also part of your surface thoughts. For example, most people get nervous to some extent when they lie._

 "By the end of that interrogation session, things got pretty intense. I swear, I could feel his eyes boring into me. I mean, literally feel it. I have a hard time believing a psychic pokemon couldn't get into someone's head if they really wanted to."

  _Well, technically, such a thing is possible._

 "Hold on, you just said you can't."

  _Not without your knowledge. The fact that you felt Cutter's attention proves the point, and trust me, you would know if he had been trying to do more than listen really hard. Such a mental intrusion would be, in comparison, like someone trying to put their hand in your mouth. The presence of something so foreign where it clearly didn't belong would be unmistakable and even if someone were to try it, they would have a difficult time succeeding if you didn't allow it. To force one's way into someone's mind would feel to that person like an act of violence, not unlike a physical assault._ Gia paused, then continued in a softer tone _, Be at ease, Ryan. Neither I nor Cutter would harm you in such a way._

 Ryan turned his attention back to the window. "Right. Thanks."

  _Speaking of harm, may I ask how you got all those scars on your back?_ Gia asked.

 "Old injury," Ryan replied curtly. He grabbed a t-shirt lying on the dresser nearby and slipped it on. "So, what was it that you originally came up to see me about, anyway?"

  _Oh, yes, I nearly forgot. Stacy wanted me to tell you that she's here and that the training can begin as soon as you're ready._

 Through the window, he watched Stacy and Max playfully wrestling and rolling around on the grass below. "Those two sure are awfully..." he paused, watching Stacy wriggling helplessly and laughing as Max held her pinned down, nipping her ears with his beak, "...chummy."

  _They've been together for many years, Ryan. Max was Stacy's first pokemon, after all_ , Gia said.

 "Seems kind of odd," Ryan said.

  _Stacy takes very good care of all of her pokemon, but those two share a special bond. In some ways, Max takes care of Stacy as much as she takes care of him. But you know_ , Gia said, sidling up next to Ryan, _as close as she is with Max, I happen to know that she very much enjoys human companionship, as well._

 "I'm sure she does," he said, turning and walking out of the room.

 Gia crossed her arms and huffed in irritation. _So much for subtlety,_ she thought.

 * * *

 After eating breakfast, Ryan performed a quick cleanup of some of the pokemon enclosures at the behest of Taylor Grant, the new intern who was now a part of the workday scenery at the clinic. Having had a chance to observe the newcomer for several weeks, Ryan found that he shared Doctor Lynd's assessment of the young man: He was a capable veterinarian with an affable manner toward people and pokemon alike, but had something of an aversion to the kind of menial work Ryan performed.

 After quickly finishing his morning duties, Ryan rounded up Cutter and Buster, then went outside to meet up with Stacy. Both Stacy and Max had since composed themselves from their earlier activities and now reclined against a tree. Seeing Stacy closer now, he saw that she had re-frosted the tips of her hair a vibrant purple and wore a long-sleeved shirt against the cooler autumn air. In addition, Stacy now held her baby brother in her arms, wrapped up warmly in a blanket

 "I'm ready," Ryan said, stopping in front the group. He looked down the infant. "I'm a little surprised you brought Alexander along for this, though."

 "My mom insisted," Stacy said, gently bouncing the infant. "She says I don't spend enough time with my brother, which is true, given what we've been doing lately."

 "Not to be rude, but why doesn't she look after him herself? He's _her_ kid, after all."

 "Believe me, she does. You just don't see how much time she spends on him because you only see her at work. Also, my parents are really into the whole family bonding thing."

 "Oh," Ryan said. "Why?"

 "Why?" Stacy repeated. "Well, it's not exactly a bad thing for family members to spend time with each other." She glanced up at him and noted the completely neutral expression on his face. "I take it that maybe your parents didn't have the same opinion?" she asked gently.

 "I don't have any parents," he replied.

 "Oh. Did they..."

 "Dead," he said flatly.

 Ryan watched her look away and attempt a few words, each hastily abandoned before being spoken. "So," he said, leaning in to catch her eye and mercifully interrupt her obvious discomfiture, "you were going to help me train my pokemon?"

 "Right," Stacy said, standing. "In fact, I've brought in some special guest trainers to get us started. Be right back."

 Ryan watched her jog back into the clinic, briefly wondering what kind of training she had in store for them. Knowing how seriously she took sport battling, he imagined her spending countless hours at home, hunched over charts and tables, arranging grueling schedules and intense workouts, painstakingly designed to produce optimum development for each pokemon in the time remaining before the pro-am.

 While he waited, Spike, the pichu that Ryan was looking after for Doctor Lynd, had emerged from the clinic and joined them, amusing himself by batting at Max's toes. The large blaziken, to his credit, took the attentions of the pichu in stride.

 After a short while, Stacy returned, her two younger sisters in tow.

 "They're the special trainers?" Ryan asked.

 "Not exactly," Stacy said, and nodded to Jennifer and Christina. Each of them produced a poké ball and, in a flash of light, two pokemon appeared - Christina's pachirisu and Jennifer's new buneary. "Twitch and Mocha are," Stacy finished.

 "Mocha?" Ryan asked, hearing the buneary's name for the first time.

 "Be nice," Stacy whispered. "Jennifer really likes the name."

 "Your pichu is cute," Jennifer said, kneeling down next to Spike. "Can I pick him up?"

 "Yeah, but be careful," Ryan said. "He gets a little zappy when he gets excited." He shifted his attention back to Stacy. "So, how are those two puffballs going to train my pokemon?"

 "Speed training," Stacy said with a smile. "Speed is one of the most essential aspects of battling, perhaps _the_ most essential aspect. You can be the strongest there is, but if you're not fast enough, your strength will never reach your opponent. Speed is crucial to mounting both an effective offense and defense. Therefore, this morning's training will be simple: Catch your training partner and bring them back to me. Cutter, you get Mocha. Buster gets Twitch. While they're working on that, you and I will be going over some basics with Trace."

 "Seems pretty easy," Ryan said, watching Twitch casually lick one her paws. "Are you sure we'll have time for training Trace before they're done?"

 "I'm sure we'll at least be able to get started," Stacy said with a grin. She turned to Cutter and Buster. "You guys ready? Then, go!"

 With that, Twitch and Mocha took off like a shot, heading in opposite directions so quickly, the gallade and metalleon were left momentarily dumbfounded. They quickly gave chase but in the brief delay, their respective quarries had already gained a substantial lead. A series of rapid jinks and dodges by Twitch and Mocha kept their pursuers stumbling and grasping at air whenever they got too close, only to dart away again. Stacy chuckled and half-smiled at Ryan who was still staring in surprise at the display of speed by her younger sisters' pokemon. "Yeah, I think we'll have time," she said. "Follow me and we'll get started with Trace."

 Stacy led Ryan a short distance away to where a large rock sat in a dirt clearing. "I know you've never used Trace in combat, but do you know if he has any battle experience at all?"

 "Cutter says he does. He told me that the scientists and techs at NuGen used to have friendly pokemon matches between their departments from time to time when things got slow. Apparently, Trace used to be pretty popular until they had an incident."

 "An incident? What happened?" Stacy asked.

 "Trace was battling a pikachu belonging to a guy from the pharmaceutical department and during the fight, the pikachu zapped Trace with a Thunderbolt. Unfortunately, Trace and the pikachu were pretty close to one of the onlookers and Trace's smooth, faceted body reflected the flashes of light from the electrical attack in just the wrong way and it sent the guy into a seizure. What are the odds, right? Anyway, after that, nobody would let Trace battle again because they said he wasn't safe. Everyone blamed Trace for giving that guy a seizure, even though it was really the pikachu's Thunderbolt that did it."

 "Well, I think we'll be fine," Stacy said, "and if anything happens, I'm sure my mom can handle it." She carefully handed Alexander over to Max, instructing him to take the baby a safe distance away. Once he had done so, she returned her attention to Ryan. "Okay, now let's see what Trace can do."

 Ryan produced his cell phone and called to Trace who assembled himself in a flurry of geometric shapes a moment later.

 Stacy brought out her empoleon Freya to serve as fire suppression, should the need arise, and began having Trace perform several basic moves, using the proper names of each. When Ryan asked why the jargon was necessary, she explained that pokemon often could produce multiple elemental effects that, while seemingly similar, were nonetheless very different. "For example," she said, "a Thundershock may seem a lot like a Discharge but one is a focused effect while the other affects a wide area - an important distinction if you're up against two pokemon and you know that one of them actually gets strengthened when hit by electricity."

 After taking the porygon's measure, she had Ryan take a turn at giving commands. In truth, this part of the training was more for Ryan's benefit, as Stacy spent the majority of the time getting him accustomed to using the proper names of the moves Trace could do and using them to direct him.

 "Your porygon is quite versatile," Stacy said, after having run Ryan through a few sets. "I wonder... Trace, I want you to try something different."

 The porygon cocked its head and chirped inquisitively.

 "Try generating both cold energy and electricity like your Ice Beam and Thunderbolt and use your psychic energy to compress and bind them into a single beam and shoot it at the rock."

 Trace warbled uncertainly, then focused toward the target rock. His eyes drew down into an expression of intense concentration as two small globes of energy - one blue and one yellow - began to collect at the tips of his feet, followed by a red globe which appeared at his forehead. With a high-pitched buzz, Trace released rays of energy from each point, all three coming together at a point just in front of him and coalescing into a single multicolored, helical beam of red, blue and yellow that shot forward and blasted into the rock with a burst of light. The litter of loose, dry leaves and grass around the rock ignited and began to burn. Freya stepped forward and quickly doused the fire with a stream of water from her beak.

 "That was pretty intense," Ryan said, surveying the scorched rock. "Never heard of making fire with ice before, though."

 "That was called a tri-attack, and the fire was actually from the heat generated by the psychic compression. This particular attack can actually burn, paralyze or freeze an opponent, depending on how the beam hits it." She nodded approvingly at Trace. "This a powerful attack. Your porygon must be pretty strong to be able to pull it off."

 Trace bobbed in the air, chirping proudly.

 Ryan turned as he saw Buster trudging toward them with weary steps, breathing heavily around the pachirisu he held in his mouth by the scruff of its neck. Following behind was Cutter, similarly winded and holding a buneary. Both stopped in front of Ryan and Stacy, dropping their catches and collapsing to the ground, panting. Twitch and Mocha took but a moment to smooth their ruffled fur, then bounded lightly away.

 "Good job, guys," Stacy said. "Let's take a break and we can pick it back up after lunch."

 * * *

 Ryan was watching Buster and Cutter recovering from their earlier exercise - Buster drinking water from a bowl and Cutter alternating between sipping from cup and taking bites from a fruit and grain bar - when Max approached, waving and vocalizing energetically. Ryan turned to face the blaziken. "What's up, Max?"

 Max pointed at Ryan, then pointed at a spot where a small path led into the forest beyond.

 "Is this about more training? Stacy said we weren't doing anything until after lunch." He nodded toward Buster who was lapping eagerly at his bowl of water. "At least give them a chance to catch their breath, for crying out loud."

 Max shook his head, holding up an open hand toward Ryan's pokemon then pointed at Ryan himself.

 "You mean just me?"

 Max nodded emphatically and pointed toward the path once again.

 Ryan sighed, then began walking in the indicated direction. "This better not take long," he muttered. "I'm getting hungry."

 Ryan followed the narrow, meandering trail through the forest, now gilded in autumn colors of fire-red and gold both above in the branches and below in scatterings of fallen foliage. He continued on for a few minutes until he spotted a small, arrow-shaped piece of paper taped to one of the broad trunks. He looked in the direction of the arrow which pointed off toward a small stream away from the trail. He saw no sign of Stacy, but a splash of color on the ground near the stream caught his eye.

 He walked toward it until he saw that it was a blue-colored blanket laid out among the fallen leaves near the gurgling stream. A plastic cooler sat upon the blanket in its center.

 He was about to examine it further when he heard footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw Stacy walking toward him along the edge of the stream.

 "There you are," Stacy called as she approached. "You picked an interesting place to have a conversation."

 "What are you talking about?" Ryan said.

 "Gia told me you were out here and wanted to talk to me about something."

 "That's funny, because Max told me _you_ wanted to see _me_."

 Stacy glanced at the cooler sitting on the blanket, then sighed, half-smiling. "Oh, they didn't..." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm going to have to have a talk with those two."

 Unfazed, Ryan opened the cooler, examining its contents. "Yeah, well, in the meantime, I'm starving and this stuff actually looks pretty good."

 Stacy watched him take out several sandwiches and couple bottles of lemonade from the cooler and set them on the blanket. "I suppose it would be a shame to let it go to waste," she said. "Mind if I join you?"

 Ryan tossed her a bottle of lemonade and nodded to an empty spot on the blanket.

 From a distant vantage point, hidden from view, Gia and Max watched as the pair ate together, afterward reclining on the blanket in conversation which gave way to laughter as the two took turns tossing rawst berries into each others mouths. The two pokemon nodded to each other, smiling, and crept quietly away.

 * * *

 Later that day, after a few more rounds of speed training and some drills to familiarize Ryan with his pokemon's individual talents, Ryan was heading back into the clinic to catch up on his afternoon job duties when he spotted Christina's rhydon, Crash, leaning back against the wall of the clinic, relaxing in the late afternoon sun. Ryan was about to pass him by but something that had been nagging at him for far too long stopped him.

 "You're looking pretty good, these days," Ryan said to the rhydon. "Christina must be taking pretty good care of you - better than that other guy, anyway." Ryan saw no response from Crash. If the rhydon noticed his presence, he gave no indication of it. Still, Ryan pressed on. "Look, I want you to know that I still feel bad about that fight. Maybe I should've popped your old trainer in the nose instead of dusting it up with you. I don't know. I never meant to get you kicked out of your home, though. I know what it's like to be abandoned. Even when someone else comes along to look after you, you don't know anything about them. It's like your whole world goes out the window and you..." he paused, seeing the rhydon finally regard him with an expressionless stare, "...you don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?"

 Unsurprisingly, Crash said nothing.

 Ryan shook his head and sighed. "Good talk, Crash," he said, and started walking away.

 The sound of a low, gravelly bark behind him stopped him short. He turned and saw Crash standing suddenly and surprisingly close. Crash looked down at him, his eyes no longer vacant, instead now filled with an odd intensity. The rhydon lifted a large hand and placed it on top of Ryan's head, holding it there, a soft rumbling note rolling in his throat. Finally, Crash turned and ambled back to his spot against the wall, closing his eyes.

 Ryan stood there for a short time, then quietly went inside.

 * * *

 The next day, training resumed. After a quick review of the previous day's activities, Stacy was eager to move on.

 "Now that we've covered some of the basics," Stacy said, "it's time for you to meet the pokemon who'll be making up my half of the team. For the pro-am, each of us will bring three pokemon to make a full team of six. Since Spike is still too young, that only leaves you with three, which makes your selection pretty easy. For my three, I chose pokemon that I think will make a good complement to yours." She pulled out a poké ball and tapped its release button. With a pop and a flash of light, her empoleon appeared before her. "You know Freya. As a water and steel type, she'll be good both on offense and defense."

 She pulled another poké ball from her belt and from it emerged a great saurian pokemon that stood even taller than Max, its long neck stretching over six and a half feet high. Four broad leaves extended from its back and bunches of yellow fruit hung from its neck. "This is Samson, my tropius. He may look like a lumbering brute, but he's as graceful in the air as a braviary and his types make him a good all-around attacker."

 Finally, she pulled a third poké ball, from which she released a pokemon of medium height that looked like an upright-walking crocodile, its reddish-brown hide slashed with bands of black. Its eyes lay sunken in pits of pitch-black above broad jaws filled with rows of large teeth. Its fingers, tipped with sharp claws, twitched eagerly as it looked up at Stacy. "Rounding things out is Dredge, my krookodile. If anyone tries to get frisky with us using electric pokemon, he'll shut 'em down quick."

 In response, Dredge opened his toothy maw and stamped the ground with one foot, sending a sharp vibration through the earth beneath Ryan's feet.

 "Easy there, Dredge," Stacy said, scratching him affectionately along the ridges of his back. "Now we'll run a few drills to get your pokemon used to tournament procedures. It's important that your pokemon learn to stop attacking once the referee's whistle blows. Attacking downed opponents is a no-no and your pokemon can get flagged for doing it. The League takes a dim view of trainers who can't control their pokemon."

 Stacy had Cutter, Buster and Trace pair off with Freya, Samson and Dredge for light sparring that was frequently interrupted by her blowing a whistle, whereupon the combatants were expected to immediately stop. Stacy's pokemon responded instantly to the whistle, already being well-practiced at League battling and after a few rounds, Ryan's pokemon had picked it up as well.

 "Now we're going to have a proper sparring match with you directing your pokemon," Stacy said. "This will be a test not only of how well you handle your pokemon but also how well they follow your directions. We'll start out one-on-one, then work our way up to team battles. Ready?"

 "Let's do it," Ryan replied.

 "Then send in your first pokemon." She turned to her krookodile. "Dredge, you're up first."

 "I'll be starting with Cutter," Ryan said.

 The two pokemon stepped forward into the area on the lawn marked off for the match, facing each other from their respective ends. Stacy brought her hand up and said, "Ready!". When Ryan nodded, she dropped her hand and blew her whistle.

 Cutter and Dredge advanced on each other, Cutter extending his arm blades and Dredge snapping his wide jaws eagerly.

 "Move in, Cutter, and watch those jaws," Ryan called out.

 Cutter circled in closer, ducking away from a few quick snaps from the krookodile's maw, testing his opponent's defenses. When he spotted an opening, he moved in for a quick slashing strike.

 "Dredge, Shadow Claw!" Stacy shouted.

 The krookodile's clawed fingers burned with a purple nimbus and he slashed out with them at Cutter. Ryan's gallade dodged backward, but Dredge's claws still managed to rake a grazing line across Cutter's shoulder. Cutter winced from the strike which burned, slight though it was.

 "Be careful, Ryan," Stacy called across the field. "Most pokemon can surprise you with moves that have nothing to do with their types."

 "Alright Cutter, watch his claws, then go in low with a Leaf Blade," Ryan said.

 Cutter nodded then pressed his attack, dancing around Dredge's counterattacks. Cutter dashed in again, his arm blades glowing green, outlined in a long, thin, translucent leaf shape, and slashed low, staggering Stacy's krookodile.

 Stacy blew her whistle and both combatants immediately halted. "Good choice, Ryan. You recognized that Cutter's usual psychic-based attack would be ineffective and picked a strong alternative."

 Ryan simply nodded, smiling.

 "Okay," she continued, "let's go two-on-two. Dredge, come on back. Freya, Rush, your turn."

 Ryan looked down at his porygon. "Trace, go back Cutter up."

 Trace emitted a short, electronic chirp and floated toward Cutter on the field. Meanwhile, Stacy's luxray and empoleon moved forward with Rush advancing ahead of Freya.

 "Keep it tight and don't let Rush get behind you," Ryan called. In response, Trace and Cutter moved in close with each other, watching their opponents.

 "Grouping up isn't always the best strategy, Ryan," Stacy said from across the lawn. "Freya, back off. Rush, Discharge!"

 Stacy's empoleon, already hanging back, widened the distance between herself and her partner. The luxray dashed forward toward Ryan's pokemon and roared, filling the air around it with long arcs of electricity which engulfed both Cutter and Trace, momentarily staggering them.

 "Sometimes it isn't," Ryan said to Stacy, "but sometimes it is. Trace, Conversion protocol two. Cutter, Double Team!"

 The polygons of Trace's body flickered, changing from their usual red and blue coloration to yellow and blue while Cutter, taking a moment to concentrate, began to surround himself with illusory copies of himself.

 In response, Stacy sent her pokemon in for the attack. Rush dashed in, snapping at Cutter, but each time, his electrified jaws found only a duplicate that evaporated between his teeth. Freya moved ponderously forward, spitting a jet of water that Trace dodged.

 Ryan pointed to the empoleon. "Okay Trace, Thunderbolt on Freya."

 Electricity began to arc between the porygon's feet, made stronger now that Trace had converted itself to an electrical type from Rush's attack, and lashed out in a sizzling bolt that struck the empoleon, dropping it down to all fours. Having neutralized his opponent, Trace turned toward the luxray."

 "Rush, Discharge!" Stacy shouted.

 The luxray filled the air with electricity once again. The energy disrupted a couple Double Team copies of Cutter but barely seemed to touch Trace, dancing almost harmlessly across his body.

 "Trace, Psybeam," Ryan commanded.

 A thin, pink beam shot from between Trace's eyes, striking Rush. It left no mark upon the luxray's body but left it wobbling dizzily, breaking its electrical attack..

 Before Ryan could give a command to Cutter, Stacy blew her whistle. "Well played, Ryan," she said. "Rush was about to be easy pickings for Cutter. Taking that first hit allowed Trace to dominate the battle."

 "It's not about who hits first," Ryan said, "it's who hits last."

 "Since you're doing so well, let's kick things up a notch. Three-on-three."

 "Alright, Buster. You're up." Ryan watched his metalleon run onto the field, joining Trace and Cutter.

 "Rush, Freya, come on back. Gia, Max, Samson, you're in."

 Stacy's empoleon and luxray joined her krookodile on the sidelines while her gardevoir, blaziken and tropius took the field in their place.

 "Cutter, take Max and watch his feet," Ryan called.

 "Gia. Use Psychic on Buster. Max, keep Cutter busy. Samson, take to the air."

 The air rippled with Gia's psychic force, slamming into Buster. The metalleon winced from the attack, which didn't seem to do a lot of damage, but left Buster growling, his angular, blade-like ears laying back in irritation. Meanwhile, Max and Cutter had squared off, Max taking the initiative and striking out with fiery kicks. Samson, with a mighty flap of his leafy wings, launched into the air.

 Ryan said, "Buster, move in on Gia and hit her with your Iron Head. Trace, come around and get Samson with an Ice Beam. That should fix 'em both."

 Buster hunkered down, getting ready to charge while Trace pulled back taking aim at the tropius circling overhead. Just as Buster started charging in, Ryan noticed that the fight between Max and Cutter was starting to drift toward...

 "Buster, stop!" Ryan shouted. The metalleon skidded to a halt, only a few yards short of Gia. "Pull back and guard Samson." Buster flicked a questioning look at Ryan, then looked back toward Gia in front of him. "Back!" Ryan commanded, gesturing toward himself.

Reluctantly, Buster backed off, taking a defensive position in the rear.

 "Trace, Conversion protocol one," Ryan continued. "Match to Psybeam and engage Gia."

 Ryan's porygon began to change color again, this time to a combination of pink and grey, and moved in on Gia.

 With that, Max started to edge away again, taking the melee between himself and Cutter with it. As the match wore on, Max's greater experience began to show as he started wearing Cutter down. Gia, meanwhile, was finding her strongest attacks to now have little effect on Trace who was rapidly beating down her defenses with his Signal Beam. Despite his aerial mobility, Samson couldn't seem to gain ground on Buster as his attacks repeatedly bounced off of the metalleon's armored hide but neither could Buster seem to gain advantage over his aerial opponent.

 Finally, Stacy blew her whistle, ending the match. "Nicely done, everyone. You know, Ryan, you're a natural at this. You saw the trap I was laying for Buster with Max and repositioned him rather than taking the bait and going for the type-advantage hit on Gia."

 "It's just a matter of keeping your surroundings in mind," Ryan said. "It's one of the things I learned when I was taught how to fight."

 "Your teacher must've been pretty good. Who was it that taught you?"

 Ryan made a small but genuine smile. "A friend."

 "I think that'll do it for today, then," Stacy said. “Again, good job. Let's get everyone inside and patched up."

 * * *

 Ryan stood in the back hallway of Doctor Lynd's house, eyeing the small wrapped box in his hand with concern. "Are you sure about this, Cutter? I really think I should've given this to her when she got her other presents."

  _It'll be better this way_ , Cutter said. _And why are you so worried about this?_

 "Because Christina's a nice girl and this is her birthday. I don't want to ruin it for her."

  _Trust me, you're not going to ruin anything._ Seeing the look of concern on Ryan's face he added, _And if there's a problem, I'll tell her it was my idea. Speaking of which_ , he glanced toward Christina who was walking in their direction in the hallway.

 "Okay, now that we're all done eating, what's the big surprise?" Christina asked.

 "It's not that big a surprise," Ryan said, "I just thought it would be nice for you to have something that wasn't part of a big pile."

 "Ooh, personal touch, hmm? I'm intrigued," Christina said, grinning. "So, whadja get me?"

 Ryan handed her the box and watched her tear open the paper wrapping. "Like I said, it's nothing major..." he trailed off.

 When she lifted the lid off the box, her eyes grew wide, flitting from its contents to Ryan and back again. Slowly, she lifted out a silver necklace from which hung a small hummingbird made of cunningly woven gold wire, its slender wings extended in a pose of flight. "It's... it's beautiful," she gasped. She turned the hummingbird pendant over in her hands, her face beaming. "It must've cost so much! Did it? Sorry, I know I'm not supposed to ask. It's so pretty, though! Where did you find it? I..." she blinked, then quickly clapped her mouth shut. A moment later, she thrust the necklace out to him. "Put it on me! I want to wear it right now!"

 She turned around and pulled her long, blonde hair to the side. Ryan then slipped the necklace around her neck, fastening it closed.

 Her gift now securely placed, she faced Ryan again, touching the hummingbird with a finger. "Thank you, Ryan," she said with a demure smile. "I love it." Before he could respond, she leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, then turned and hurried away.

 _I told you she'd like it_ , Cutter said, looking up at Ryan whose face was quickly taking on an unusually dark shade of red.

 Ryan said nothing, merely nodding before walking away.

 Cutter watched him go, a sly grin slowly spreading across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A hearty thank you to all my readers. You guys are the reason I sit down at my keyboard every day to bring this world to life.
> 
> I hope you've been enjoying the journey. If you have, or even if you haven't, please give me your comments and let me know what you liked and what you didn't. Any input and/or suggestions you have for the story are welcome as well.
> 
> Thanks again and see you in chapter 8!


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